Spiderwebs
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: Hermione ends up in the past after the fight at the Department of Mysteries. Living with the Weasleys, she finds herself with an odd admirer. Armed with knowledge of the future, how well does she really know Rodolphus Lestrange? Rodolphus x Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello all! So, this story came out of a tumblr prompt I got maybe like one or two years ago that I never fulfilled. I expected to write about 300 words, but instead, inspiration for a humongous multi-chapter grew instead! I really hope that you are going to like what I have prepared...I am really hoping this won't be your typical time travel as the year is a bit different and Hermione is a bit younger than I've typically seen, too. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter for me!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two in a few days!

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**August 1967**

Hermione Granger, generally considered one of the brightest witches of the century, even before her OWL results were tabulated, found herself in a situation that was both wholly usual and unusual in equal parts. She was sat at the breakfast table, surrounded by a large family of redheads, unable to get a word in edgewise. If she squinted hard enough, she could just imagine that she was at the Burrow.

But the truth of the matter was that the gangly teenage boy giving her doe eyes from across the table was _not_ Ron Weasley, her will-they-won't-they best friend who had been coming to terms with her womanhood for the past two years, but instead his father, _Arthur_ Weasley. Or rather, he would become Ron's father eventually.

Now, though, he was still just a young man, not the slightly balding muggle obsessed Ministry worker, husband to Molly and proud father of seven that she knew. He was set to begin his seventh year at Hogwarts in just a few weeks, and clearly enamored by the new arrival into his household.

Knowing who Arthur Weasley was going to become made any idea of romance between the two of them absolutely out of the question. Even with his similarities to Ron, she still couldn't stomach the thought of kissing the teenager who she'd only just met a week prior.

When Hermione had gone with Harry to fight at the Department of Mysteries, she never imagined the possibility that she would find herself winking into existence back in 1967. She'd been in the middle of a duel with Rabastan Lestrange in the middle of the time room one second, and then the next thing she knew a shelf of time turners was crashing down around her, her hands reaching out to try and catch the priceless artifacts before they smashed into dust around them. To her utter dismay, when she opened her eyes she was met with several confused looking Unspeakables.

She'd been arrested temporarily for trespassing, only to be rescued by Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, perhaps called because she was found wearing a Hogwarts uniform. Her relief at seeing the other man must have been palpable, because he was quickly sweeping her out of the holding cell she was kept in to a more secure office to explain her predicament. The words _prophecy, Death Eater, Voldemort_ came spilling from her lips before Dumbledore could get her to quiet down, with a promise that he would get everything sorted.

It seemed in the short term that meant foisting her on the Weasley family with a rather hefty stipend from a Hogwarts fund for needy children. Hermione was surprised that they were willing to take her in, especially considering that she didn't think that Ron's grandparents had ever been associated with the Order.

Then she realized that she didn't actually know _anything_ about Ron's paternal grandparents, despite knowing a lot about Molly's side of the family, including Bilius and Muriel. She wondered if something had happened between the Weasleys and the rest of Arthur's family, especially considering the disparity in wealth between the Weasleys she knew and the Weasleys she was currently living with.

Septimus Weasley was friendly, but not overly warm with her, generally seeing her only at lunch time. Cedrella, his wife, tried very hard to make Hermione feel at home, but she seemed disingenuous, her mouth transformed into a tight line whenever Hermione's muggleborn status would come up. The younger woman wondered if she was trying desperately to shake the reputation of the Black family that she had left when she married Septimus.

The Weasleys had three sons. The eldest was Will, and he'd graduated from Hogwarts two years prior, but had only just returned from a tour abroad to the Far East, and was meant to be looking for a job, as his mother was constantly reminding him. Unfortunately, their son was more concerned with taking witches out on dates and sneaking into the house late at night, having bumped into Hermione the night previous smelling of spilled champagne and humming like a loon.

The youngest son was George, who was set to begin his fifth year at Hogwarts, and seemed to be where Percy got his keen desire to succeed from. He proudly showed off his Gryffindor prefect's badge to Hermione, and promised that he wouldn't take points from her the first month of school while she settled in. She had barely been able to contain a smirk when she complimented him on his magnanimousness - a word that had him turning a bright red shade.

And then in the middle was her new shadow, Arthur. He was painfully obvious in his crush on her, trailing her around under the guise of being helpful. No matter how she tried to discourage his more amorous attentions, he was bloody difficult to shake off. Hermione was unused to having this...level of male attention focused on her, but she supposed she must be the hot new model for the seventeen year old.

Looking up from her scrambled eggs, Hermione made eye contact with Arthur who was staring at her, his hand propping up his face. His soft green eyes were just about the only thing that differentiated him from Ron.

"Hermione?" Cedrella's voice asked from further down the table.

The brunette startled, her head snapping towards the pureblood witch's voice. "I'm sorry, I must have zoned out there," she said, blushing. "Can you repeat the question?"

"I was just telling you about how we will be going to Diagon Alley this weekend to get your things from school. We will have to get you uniforms and some clothes and all your books, of course," Cedrella said with a smile on her face. Hermione got the impression that the woman quite enjoyed dressing Hermione up in all the latest fashions. "Won't you like that?"

Clearing her throat, Hermione nodded, thinking that the return to Hogwarts would be a comfort in this familiar but different world she had found herself in. "Yes, I...I really enjoy my studies, so it will be wonderful to get all of my school books. I'd like to get a head start on reviewing to make sure that I am not behind the curriculum here," she said cautiously, measured. Dumbledore did not share with the Weasleys the circumstances of her being with him, letting their imaginations run wild at the prior life of the orphan, Hermione Granger.

Septimus set down his fork and toast, making an approving noise in Hermione's direction. "Now, that is _exactly_ the kind of attitude that will get you far in this world, Miss Granger," he said from behind his overlarge, rust colored mustache.

"See, Arthur," Cedrella snapped with a knowing look on her perfectly beautiful, Black family face. "I wish you'd rather go out with someone like Hermione - driven and smart and _responsible_. Not like that Prewett girl you are always chasing about."

Arthur choked on his pumpkin juice. "What? Mum, I -" he stuttered out, clearly horrified for Hermione to hear that he might be interested in _someone_ _else_. "Molly and I aren't together, and I am certainly not chasing after her skirts," he said, his blush making his freckles stand out even more. "You really ought to be worried about Will - he's the one liable to get a girl pregnant!"

William was not enthused to hear his little brother giving away his secret midnight romps and smacked Arthur on the backside of his head. Suddenly the table had erupted in chaos, and Hermione was filled with a keen sense of nostalgia, as the Weasleys' home felt more like the Burrow than ever, despite its well-appointed furnishings and plenty of space. She leaned back and giggled, feeling a little bit guilty that it was because of her that everyone was fighting now. Everyone except George of course.

He leaned back in his chair, giving her a sidelong glance. "Don't worry, Hermione," he said with a proud, poncy sort of look on his face. "I'll make sure to take to Flourish and Blotts when we go into Diagon Alley, so you can see all the books they have. It's the best bookstore in the whole Wizarding world, I reckon."

"That would be wonderful, Georgie," she said, knowing how much he detested the nickname that his mother used with him, but doing it anyway. "Are there any bookshops near Hogwarts?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Afraid not," he answered, looking fairly miserable about it. "Hogsmeade is a really small village. But there is Scrivenshaft's. They sell stationary and quills and the like, but they usually get a small selection of periodicals. It's enough to tide you by. And Hogwarts has the _best_ library, so if you can't find what you are looking for there, it might not even exist."

Hermione sighed, thinking about how wonderful it would be to get back into the Hogwarts library again. She was fairly certain it would be the only place she would feel at home again, until Dumbledore could sort out how to get her back to her proper time of course. The Headmaster had told her that a group of Unspeakables was working on the problem extensively, so she had hope that it wouldn't take too long. And until then, she would just work on her sixth year of schooling, as she would be doing if she was back in 1996 with Harry and Ron.

"Hermione doesn't want to hear you talk about the library, George," Arthur said suddenly, now that his tiff with Will was sorted. "Can't you see you are boring her to sleep? Hermione, do you want to go for a broom ride? It will be fun - I'm an excellent flyer," he offered, sounding _so hopeful_ that it made her heart ache.

Swallowing, she knew that she needed to be doing everything she could to discourage Arthur from this ill advised little crush that he had on her. Looking back down at her half eaten breakfast, she gave him a grimace. "Sorry, Arthur," she said, sounding suitably morose. "I was actually thinking that I might have some time alone this morning. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed, getting so close to school starting."

"Oh, oh of course," Arthur said, his face falling at the hint of her mysterious past. It seemed that no one wanted to upset the orphan that they had so generously taken in. "You know, if you ever want to talk about...what happened, you can always count on me," he said, proudly. At least Arthur was different from Ron in this regard - he did not have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, but actually had quite good emotional intelligence.

"Don't crowd the poor thing, Arthur!" his mother scolded, giving Hermione another one of _those_ looks.

Hermione tried to look suitably upset. "I think I'll just go to my room now, if that's alright," she said, looking to Cedrella for approval.

"Of course, Bunny," Cedrella answered, her black hair perfectly coiffed, waving a hand in Hermione's direction, excusing her from the table.

Rolling her eyes at the nickname the woman had given her, Hermione turned and scurried her way up the staircase, leaving the whole table of Weasleys whispering away at the table about how they needed to be _gentle_ with her feelings.

Once Hermione was safely tucked away in the sumptuous room that had been prepared for her, she laid down on the cream colored bed and stared out the window at rolling green hills out the window. Feeling tears prick at her eyes, she wondered when she would stop crying. Still, she couldn't help it when she was feeling so terribly homesick and out of sorts. The Weasleys were _nice_, but it wasn't the same. She missed Harry and she missed Ron, and she wondered if they were concerned about her disappearance. Had they even gotten out of the Department of Mysteries alive?

The unknown was overwhelming.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Wow - I am so blown away by the response and I just can't wait for you to go on this journey with me. I really hope that you will like what I have planned. Rodolphus finally makes an appearance in this chapter, so I will just get on with it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three in a few days!

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August 1967

Hermione _was_ glad to make it to Diagon Alley, even if the previously sunny weather had been replaced by a thunderstorm that had moved in from off of the coast. Cedrella had not allowed a little thing like the weather stop her from doing something on her schedule, though, and had wrangled George and Arthur to go with them.

Arthur had been full of excited talk about how great Diagon Alley and how much she was going to love everything there. It was a bit cringeworthy to her to know that he was desperately trying to impress her, so she tuned him out and focused on looking around. The Alley was not that different than it was before, except that some of the shops had different names, but more or less the same purposes.

They had gone to the bookstore first, but Cedrella had unfortunately owled ahead and had all of their required textbooks set aside before they got there. Hermione wanted to join in with George in begging for time to look around the bookstore, but Cedrella was not her mother, and didn't think it would be very becoming of a house guest to act that way. After that, it was off to the pet store to get some much-needed owl treats.

Finally, they went to Madam Malkin's Robes for Every Occasion so that Hermione could be fitted for her new uniform. To her immense surprise, Madam Malkin was a _young_ looking witch, smartly dressed, with pins held in her teeth. "Hello, dear," Cedrella greeted seamstress with an air kiss. "We are here to get this witch her school uniform."

Madam Malkin raised one eyebrow in surprise, looking Hermione up and down. "I didn't realize that you had...a, a _newcomer_ with you, Mrs. Weasley," she said, head tilted to one side, clearly curious about who this interloper was.

"This is Hermione Granger," Cedrella answered, pressing a hand to Hermione's shoulders. "She's been staying with us this summer and will be going to Hogwarts with the boys," she explained.

The other witch took the pins out of her mouth, before bringing her hand to her chin. She walked around Hermione, looking her up and down, perhaps mentally calculating the work that she would be. "Well, I don't have any of her measurements on file," she said, finally. "It will take about an hour, but we will be able to get her fitted by then."

"Bunny, do you mind if we pop over to the Quidditch shops? The boys will be wanting to go there, and I doubt that you have any interest in looking at eighteen kinds of broom polish," Cedrella asked, her warm, grey eyes searching her face for any hint of concern. "You will be in excellent hands with Madam Malkin here."

Honestly, it would be nice to get away from the Weasleys for a little bit of time, Hermione thought privately. It wasn't that they weren't perfectly friendly, just...they seemed to be a bit too interested in making sure that she was _okay_, and it got overwhelming having to seem perfect all the time. "Of course I won't mind," Hermione said, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Maybe I should stay with her, mum," Arthur offered, hopefully. "Then her and I could walk over to the Quidditch store together."

"Arthur Herbert Weasley!" Cedrella scolded her middle son. "In what world would I leave you here to sit on your behind and pester Hermione, only to have you waste my time twice over at the Quidditch shop? We are leaving now," she insisted, before turning and heading off in the direction of the door, Arthur and George in tow.

Hermione attempted to hide her laugh behind her hand, but Madam Malkin caught her anyway. "Cedrella can be _quite_ the taskmaster," she agreed playfully.

"It's not just that," Hermione said with a smirk. "I've never heard Arthur's middle name before. Quite the mouthful."

Madam Malkin directed Hermione back behind a curtain so that she could disrobe to a level to get proper measurements. Pulling the tape measure from around her neck, a quick notes quill began writing down all of the pertinent numbers she would need to pick up the robes. "Don't you just use magic to measure?" Hermione found herself asking, remembering that in her time, Madam Malkin barely spared her a second thought when getting her uniform.

"Customers like to know that I take their clothing needs seriously," she explained, pushing a bit of dark hair back out of her face. "Taking measurements by hand is more accurate - magic can't understand the _fit_ that you'll want. Stand up straighter, dear."

Hermione supposed that that made sense to her. She corrected her posture, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mind began to wander, curious to know what the uniforms would be like in the late sixties. The Hogwarts uniform was notoriously out of fashion and hadn't seemed to be updated in at least a decade, so there was a possibility that it wouldn't have changed. The brunette thought that might be nice - the less change, the better, she figured.

Besides, she already had so much on her mind without having to feel uncomfortable in some new scratchy uniform, like how she was going to get back to her proper time. Dumbledore had _told_ her to be patient and he would talk to her once she got to school, but it seemed like there was more and more chance of her irreparably changing the future the longer she stayed there. Arthur never seemed to have recognized her back in the future, though, so perhaps she wasn't actually there for all that long.

The two women were startled out of their silence a few moments later by the sound of the bell chiming, announcing another patron. Summoning a uniform, Madam Malkin handed it to Hermione. "Here, put this one and then meet me outside at the stand," she instructed, before leaving her to go greet her other customer.

Hermione quickly slipped into the uniform. It was not all that different from the one she had, except that the silhouette was slightly different. The waist was a bit higher and the hem a bit longer. She was pleased to note that the cut of the white cotton blouse was much more feminine as well. While wearing a uniform was never ideal, Hermione thought to herself, she could do worse for her figure.

She couldn't hear Madam Malkin murmuring with the man who had come in any longer, so she hoped that the coast would be clear, and crept out from behind the curtain. Standing on the platform, she turned around, looking at herself from every angle thanks to the multiple mirrors.

A quiet chuckle startled her out of her little daydream. Spinning around, Hermione was surprised to see a young man, around her age, sitting in a chair and watching her. Feeling her cheeks heat up, she apologized quietly.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked, his lips pursed together in amusement. "It's not as if you've done anything wrong."

"You're right," she agreed, feeling nonplussed. "I take it back."

His smile broadened, showing off imperfect white teeth. "Are you new to Hogwarts? You seem a little bit old to be a first year," he commented.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him anything, but she supposed that it wasn't a secret either. "I, yes, I am new this year. But, I will be going into my sixth year," she explained, taking a moment to really look at him. He was rather good looking, she decided, with his expressive blue eyes and dark, perfectly styled hair. He looked at home seated in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you getting uniforms for Hogwarts, too?" she asked, unsure if she was hoping that he would be one of her future classmates or hoping that she'd never see him again.

"Ah, we are getting uniforms, but not for me," he explained, waving in the direction of the curtain. "My little brother is going to be a first year."

"Oh," Hermione answered, nodding in understanding. She wasn't entirely sure why she was feeling a little bit _disappointed_ that she wouldn't be going to school with him. She returned her attention to looking at herself in the mirror to distract herself from the good looking man. It was probably for the best anyway, she thought to herself. There was no point getting attached to anyone in this time.

"So, are you going to be sorted with the rest of the first years?" he asked, making conversation. And why shouldn't he? It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. "Rab would be tickled to think that one of the older students would be sorted with the rest of them."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm in Gryffindor," she answered tersely. She was glad she'd been spared the embarrassment of being sorted in front of everyone, but Dumbledore thought that it would really be calling far too much attention to her. Hermione didn't even see the _point_ of being sorted when she already knew what house she was in, and the Headmaster had eventually relented.

"Gryffindor, eh?" he said, wearing another one of those amused smirks, perhaps finding humor in her forcefulness. "And does the newest member of Gryffindor house have a name?"

Just as she was about to introduce herself to him, a young boy came bursting out from behind the curtains, with Madam Malkin hot on his tail. "Alright, young man," she said indulgently. The younger brother, Hermione supposed, looked shy and nervous, and desperately like he wanted to prove himself. "We will owl you your uniforms in a day or two."

"Thank you Madam Malkin," the older brother answered, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "Just send the bill to Gringotts and they will settle up with you," he instructed. "Shall we go?" he asked the young wizard.

"Yeah," he answered. "Can we go to Gambol and Japes before we go home?"

"Of course," the handsome one answered, leading his brother towards the door. He gave Hermione a little nod on the way out, but left before they could be properly introduced to one another.

A small part of her was dying to ask Madam Malkin who they were, but she didn't want to seem too nosy, either. Besides, it wasn't as if it was likely for her to cross paths with them again. Instead, she focused on the work the woman was doing on the uniform, pushing the handsome stranger from her mind completely. "This fits you nicely," she said, satisfied with her selection. "Just need a few adjustments." Using some pins, she lifted the hem until it was just stopped at her knee.

When Madam Malkin was one hundred percent happy with what she saw, she instructed Hermione to return to her normal clothing for the day. The brunette slipped back into her dress, smoothing down the fabric. By the time she came back out of the dressing room, the Weasleys had filed back into the little shop and were settling the bill for her.

"Thanks," she said to Cedrella, grateful for her assistance in all of this. Hermione was certain she wouldn't be able to get around as well if it wasn't for the Weasleys' generosity. While Dumbledore had given her enough galleons to get by, the Weasleys had still agreed to take her in.

"It's no trouble at all, Bunny," the woman waved off her thank you. "Now, I am sure that you are eager to get home after all of this shopping. I know that _I _could use a gin and tonic after what the boys put me through in that Quidditch shop. Eighteen kinds of broom polish was _not_ an understatement."

Hermione laughed at the other woman's exasperation and the sheepish look on Arthur's face. Still, heading back to their house sounded like the perfect idea. Hermione really wanted to get into her textbooks so she could see what to expect for the year. Even though she didn't think she would be in the past for all that long, it didn't hurt to be prepared.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are enjoying so far! This chapter introduces some new characters and some old favorites. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four!

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September 1967

The first of September was upon Hermione before she even realized it. She had been in the past for nearly three weeks at this point, and was a bit unsettled by how quickly she'd made herself at home in 1967.

It was odd to go to Kings Cross Station with the Weasleys and knowing that she wasn't going to be meeting Harry and Ron on the station. Instead, Arthur had been eager to offer her a seat in his compartment. "You can sit with me, of course," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't want to spend your day with Georgie and his friends, talking about potions supplies and other nerdy things."

Hermione almost wanted to disagree with him, thinking that a few hours talking about ingredient quality would be right up her alley. At the same time, George did not seem keen to offer her an invitation to sit with his friends, so she put on a smile. "I'm excited to meet some of your friends."

They fought against the students looking to find their compartment, but to Hermione's relief, none of them seemed too interested in her, even if she was a new student. Finally, they slipped into one of the compartments near the back of the train. Hermione greeted the two students inside awkwardly while Arthur put up their trunks.

"Hermione, this is my friend Gerald Speltz," he said, indicating the blond-haired young man. "And this is his girlfriend, Samantha Saks. Guys, this is my friend, Hermione. She's been living with my family this summer."

Samantha had honey blonde hair, warm brown eyes and a friendly face, but even she looked surprised by that statement. "Er, what brought you and the Weasleys together, Hermione?" she asked cautiously. "Family troubles?"

"Yeah, something like that," Hermione agreed, hoping that they wouldn't press her for further details. "Dumbledore was gracious enough to help me find somewhere on such short notice and I am so grateful that the Weasleys could open their home to me." She settled into her seat, and Arthur sat next to her.

Arthur's friends must have noticed how close he'd chosen to sit next to her, and the hopeful look that he gave her, because Gerald was clearing his throat. "Um, say, Arthur, have you told Molly about this development?" he asked.

Before Arthur could answer, the door was sliding open and none other than Molly Prewett herself was waltzing right into the compartment. As soon as her eyes narrowed in on Hermione sitting next to Arthur, the sunny smile on her face fell. "Oh, who are you?" she asked, making it abundantly clear how unhappy she was with the situation.

"Molly, this is Hermione," Samantha said, with a forced grin, hoping the defuse the tension that now permeated the compartment. "She's a new student and has been living with the Weasleys this summer."

Hermione was immensely glad that looks _couldn't_ kill, otherwise she was certain she would have dropped dead several times. There was no secret that Molly Prewett did not like Hermione Granger one little bit. Hermione _wanted_ to reassure the other girl that she had no designs on Arthur, and she absolutely wouldn't get in the way of the relationship they were destined to have, but there was no good way for her to explain that.

Instead, Molly kept her mouth in a tight line. "Oh, that's nice," Molly said, before sitting down in the open seat next to Arthur. "It must be almost like having a sister," she added, innocently enough, though her words were undoubtedly meant to make Hermione seem like not an option.

"Well, not-" Arthur was quick to jump into the conversation, only to get cut off by Gerald, who sensed this conversation was headed south, quickly.

"So, Hermione," he said, getting the younger girl's attention. "Are you going to be in seventh year like the rest of us?"

"No, sixth year actually," she explained, knowing that she wasn't likely to share classes with any of them.

Molly was really quite content to get all of the attention back on her now that she had recovered from the shock of the interloper in their compartment. She launched into discussion of how her summer went and how her two older brothers - Gideon and Fabian - were going through Auror training.

Hermione quickly got the sense that she was the fifth wheel in this situation, but luckily for her, she was content to just look out the window, watching the scenery go by. She let the conversation between the four friends filter away, until it was nothing more than background noise. Before she knew it, Arthur was shaking her shoulder to let her know that they would be arriving soon.

"I must have dozed off there," she told him with a slight blush on her cheeks.

Seeing Hogwarts all lit up in the night sky made her heart leap into her throat. It truly felt like coming home, even if she was in the completely wrong time. Blinking back tears, she took a steadying breath before climbing into one of the carriages. She was just glad that they weren't making her take the boats with the first years. She wanted as little embarrassment as possible.

However, it seemed as if she couldn't really fly under the radar the _whole_ time. As soon as she found her seat at the Gryffindor table next to Arthur and his friends there were numerous people who started to whisper and point in her general direction. Hermione tried not to let it get to her, knowing that they were probably just curious, but she still didn't like being the center of attention in this way. Holding her head high, she acted like she didn't notice it.

Instead of getting into a discussion with the seventh year Gryffindors about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher seated on the dais, Hermione let her eyes search the room, looking for differences. It was nice to see some familiar faces on the faculty, even though she wouldn't be able to let on that she knew them already. Professor McGonagall looked so young and pretty, though still strict. Professor Sprout was mostly unchanged, except her hair was still mostly mousy brown and was only starting to show hints of grey.

Before long, the first years were being filed into the Great Hall, some looking nervous and some looking excited. It was a slightly smaller class than usual, Hermione decided. If she was honest, she found the sorting ceremony disinteresting now. She was not that concerned about the somewhat arbitrary way the Sorting Hat divided each class up into little teams, forcing friend groups on to a new group of eleven-year-olds. Still, she clapped politely every time a new flushed face was assigned to Gryffindor.

Almost unwittingly, Hermione found the boy who she'd seen at Madam Malkin's the week before wearing an immaculately tailored uniform. He stood in line looking bored, with his arms crossed over his chest, with none of the shyness he'd shown at the tailors. He seemed much more at home here at Hogwarts - confident in his place at Hogwarts. Her interaction with his older brother slipped back into her mind, and she wondered if it was traitorous to be wishing she could see him again.

"Lestrange, Rabastan," McGonagall's clear voice echoed in the cavernous Great Hall, and Hermione felt her heart leap into her throat when she saw the boy from the shop step forward.

_Merlin_, this little twerp was the whole reason that she was back in this time period to begin with! If she hadn't been dueling him in the Time Room, she never would have crashed into the time turners to begin with. Even though she'd been living with Arthur _bloody_ Weasley for the last few weeks, she still hadn't even contemplated the possibility that she would cross paths with any Death Eaters in this time. Her heart beat wildly, pounding against her rib cage. She tried to keep her face neutral even though she felt like she wanted to scream.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat called out triumphantly after nearly a minute of silence.

That was both wholly surprising and unsurprising at the same time. Hermione wouldn't have expected him to go anywhere else, but then again she half expected it to shout out Slytherin as soon as the hat touched his head, much like it had done with Draco Malfoy all those years ago...err, all those years to come?

Hermione felt her face blanche as Rabastan proudly hopped off of the stool and walked the short distance to the Slytherin table. She couldn't pay attention to whichever Rabinott was being sorted at that moment, instead far too focused on the young Death Eater. He made a beeline to the middle of the table where...the older brother from Madam Malkins was waiting with open arms and an attractive smile. Pulling his younger brother in for a quick hug, he immediately made space for him.

She felt her breath leave her when she finally made the connection between the two. If the good looking teenager was Rabastan's older brother that meant he could be none other than _Rodolphus Lestrange_, husband to the infamous Bellatrix. A person who would one day torture Neville Longbottom's parents to the brink of insanity.

Wild eyes searched the rest of the Slytherin table for anyone else she might need to be wary of, thanking her lucky stars that Remus and Sirius were too young to be at school yet. She wasn't sure she would be able to handle the junior marauders. Bellatrix Lestrange - or Black as she was known as now - was easy to find. She was uncommonly beautiful, laughing with a pair of boys who were _not_ Rodolphus. Her hair looked rich and lush, not like the scraggled mess that she had once she escaped Azkaban.

Narcissa _Black_ was easily spotted, too, even if she must only be a second or third year. Her straight blonde hair was artfully pinned back out of her face as she took dainty bites of her feast, holding court with four other Slytherin girls. Her future husband, Lucius, looked just as pompous as Draco always did, sneering disdainfully at two Hufflepuffs who just couldn't keep their hands off of one another.

Her traitorous mind brought her attention back to Rodolphus. Hermione wondered how it was possible that he could be quite so good looking and turn into the odious individual she had last seen in the Department of Mysteries. There was barely anything of the paranoid, intense man with an unkempt beard in this younger version of him.

To her dismay, he looked up and caught her staring at him. Rodolphus gave her half smirk, half smile at catching her red-handed, before waving subtly at her. Hermione flushed immediately in embarrassment, returning her attention to her still empty plate.

The sudden motion caught Arthur's eye and he looked at her with concern and fondness. "Everything alright, Hermione?" he asked, ignoring the rest of his friends to check on her.

"Er, yeah, there's just...so many people," she lied, angling her body towards Arthur so that she wouldn't be tempted to look at Rodolphus again. "It's a little bit overwhelming."

Arthur laughed at her comment. "I know what you mean. It can be a bit of an adjustment," he commiserated with her. "But don't worry, I will introduce you to everyone worth knowing, promise," he added with a boyish grin that reminded her so much of Ron that it made her heart ache.

The thought of Ron reminded her once again of who Arthur really was. It completely killed any seed of attraction taking hold of her. "Thanks," she said, glad that she could count on him as a friend at least. "You've been so helpful to me already."

The Gryffindor blushed at her words, looking a bit bashful. "It's no trouble, Hermione," he stammered. "I'll help you with whatever you need."

When Hermione looked up, Molly Prewett was glaring at her over a bowl of mashed potatoes.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you guys are liking this one so far. This chapter adds a few new people, so I hope you enjoy them. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Also, I've realized I have been remiss in not thanking kristeristerin for beta reading the last two chapters and for this one! So thank you so much kristeristerin!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter four and be on the lookout for chapter five soon!

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September 1967

By the time that September 19th had finally rolled around, Hermione had not felt the customary excitement that she typically felt on her birthday, but instead was only filled with disappointment. She had not been anticipating on being in the past for this long, especially when Dumbledore had seemed so hopeful when she first spoke with him about how quickly he'd be able to get her back to her proper time.

Each day that she spent out of place in the 60s made her future seem further and further away. Hermione was constantly full of anxiety, worried about changing something irreparably. More concerning was how much easier it was to slip into this other society, the uncomfortableness easing away into nothing.

Determined to actually _do_ _something_ about it on the morning of her seventeenth birthday, Hermione had gone immediately to the Headmaster's office, only to find it closed. Disappointed that the gargoyle informed her that Dumbledore was not currently in, Hermione went about her classes. The day went by easily enough and she made a beeline back to the Headmaster's office before dinner.

Albus Dumbledore, with his auburn colored beard quickly turning more grey than colored, had been surprised to see her. He had no new information to share with her about the progress of a time turner that could send her forward in time. He pressed a hand to her shoulder and looked down at her with a smile. "Just focus on enjoying your time here, Miss Granger," he had counseled her. "You are only a teenager and you shouldn't have to be worrying about things like this."

It had taken everything in her being not to reveal to him the kind of future that she'd come from, where far too often it had fallen to her, Harry and Ron to worry about things most adult witches and wizards would never face. Then he sternly _suggested _that she head down to dinner, indicating that there would be no further discussion that evening.

Hermione found her spot at the Gryffindor table easily enough. She was pleased that she had an easier time relating to the girls in her dorm room _this_ time around, but it might have been because the three had gone out of their way to make sure that Hermione felt included.

"What has you looking so glum today, Hermione?" Fawn Fawcett asked, always the most perceptive out of the group.

"Yeah, isn't it your birthday?" Elna Honig asked afterwards. Elna and Fawn could pass for twins with their dark blonde hair and light green eyes. The only real difference between the two was that Fawn had a proliferation of freckles across her cheeks and nose, while Elna had the prettiest shade of tan skin, making Hermione feel pale and sickly by comparison.

"Just missing everyone back home," Hermione lied, trying not to bring down the mood too much. "It's my first birthday away." Everyone was far too uncomfortable with the details of what unfortunate tragedy had brought Hermione Granger to Hogwarts, fortunately, so they never dug into deep questions with her. She was glad for it because she already felt that she was lying far too much.

"Well, Arthur was looking for you earlier," Elna said, leaning forward with a naughty smirk on her face, looking down the table to where the redhead was staring at them. "Maybe he wants to give you a present."

"Elna!" Hermione cried, blushing fiercely. She'd done everything she could _not_ to encourage Arthur's little crush, but not matter what she said to her roommates, they could not take the hint that they weren't _destined_ to be together.

Before they could discuss it much more, Lottie was shoving a spot open next to Fawn, a look on her face that promised gossip. "You will not _believe_ what I just heard!" she said conspiratorily.

"Aw, we were just going to talk about Hermione and Arthur," Fawn sighed, playing with the ends of her plaits.

"Who cares about that? It's old news!" Lottie snapped back. Charlotte - or Lottie as she would only respond to - St Clair was a tempest of excitement and disorganization that would normally put Hermione on edge, but her authenticity made her a delight to be around. With her _perfectly_ wavy black hair and blue eyes, she was easily the prettiest girl in Gryffindor, too. "Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange are _betrothed_," she revealed, triumphantly.

Guilty, Hermione's eyes found Rodolphus easily enough. He was laughing from his spot at the Slytherin table, talking to a Pucey and a Flint if she wasn't mistaken based on their looks, looking like he didn't have a single care in the world. Her heart skipped when she saw him wearing that lopsided grin she'd come to look forward to.

She had done her best to avoid him completely after coming to Hogwarts and realizing who he was, despite his best efforts to orchestrate a meeting between the two of them. He'd waited outside of her classroom once before, only to have Hermione breeze past him and pretend like she couldn't hear him. And, Rodolphus had become remarkably good at looking for books in the library wherever she happened to be studying that night. She almost wondered if he had some sort of Marauder's Map prototype.

Sometimes, she worried that she would just snap at him that she was a muggleborn and he would be horrified that he'd been chasing her all over the castle. The rejection that would surely follow would hurt Hermione, but at least then it would be over and done with and she could go back on focusing on more important things, unlike her more persistent daydream about what a future Death Eater's _hands_ looked like. Merlin, she never knew that long fingers could _possibly_ be attractive, but she supposed it had more to do with who they were attached to.

Blushing, Hermione realized that she'd been staring at him and Rodolphus had _certainly_ noticed if his half-hidden smirk was anything to judge by. Returning her attention to her friends, she tried to push him from her mind, reminding herself that he was going to marrying Bellatrix and become a horrible man.

"A betrothal? Isn't that a little archaic?" Hermione asked.

"I mean, for most witches, yes," Fawn explained quickly, seeing as she was the only pureblood out of the group. "But for the type of pureblood that the Blacks are, it's not that uncommon. They have three daughters so they are probably trying to make sure that they all go to a good home."

"Go to a good home?" Hermione asked, aghast. "It sounds like they are some kind of pet that needs adopting, not women with their own minds that thoughts."

Lottie nodded in agreement. "I know, if my father tried something like that with me, I'd probably run away," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But it doesn't matter. It's what's happening."

"But Rodolphus and Bellatrix?" Elna asked with a confused note in her voice. "I wouldn't have put _them_ together in a million years. "I thought that they hated each other."

_That_ was news to Hermione and she felt herself scooting forward in her seat, eager to hear any other details that the witches could provide. Perhaps Rodolphus wasn't _really_ all that bad if he didn't even like Bellatrix.

"Yeah, I bet Bellatrix is _pissed_," Lottie said, sounding a little bit sorry for the other witch. "Apparently it was because the Malfoy's want Narcissa for Lucius, but they needed some assurances that the Black family was good stock because of what happened with Andy last year."

"What happened with Andy?" Hermione asked, hoping she wasn't sounding too nosy. She'd only briefly seen Andromeda once, and was surprised how much she looked like Bellatrix, with just lighter colored hair.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know," Elna answered, remembering that Hermione hadn't been there the first year. "She went to Hogsmeade with Teddy Tonks last year and she kissed him right in the middle of the Three Broomsticks. Now she has a bit of a reputation as a muggle lover."

"No offense, Hermione," Fawn added, looking a bit guilty at the turn of phrase, knowing that she was a muggleborn.

"None taken," Hermione conceded, even though the term did smart a bit. "So basically they need to betroth Bellatrix to like a really good pureblood to prove that Narcissa is worthy of Lucius?" she asked, almost hating that she was asking these words out loud. She wondered if Draco was aware of how his parents had met, and what he would have thought about it.

"Exactly," Lottie answered, rather self-satisfied for bringing such a hot topic to the dinner table.

"Gross," Hermione said, not caring if it offended anyone at the table. "The Malfoys _want_ Narcissa so Bellatrix has to get married to someone that she doesn't even _like_, not to mention that we don't even know if Lucius and Narcissa like _each other_. Merlin, they haven't even taken their OWLs yet!"

"I'm sure that Narcissa is eating it up," Elna said, a bit uncharitably. "She is the perfect little princess, and the Malfoys _are_ rich. Lucius is a little prat, but he would be considered a catch in _their _circles."

Hermione made a noise of agreement, looking at Narcissa's smug little face and her perfect corn silk blonde hair. "Well, I hope that they make each other happy," Hermione said grimly, knowing all too well how the marriage would work out. It seemed as if Narcissa and Lucius got on well in her time as adults, and they both loved Draco. "And have an annoying little blond twat for a son," she added with a grin, taking a bit of joy in the fact that the girls didn't know what the future had in store.

"It's just such a pity that Rodolphus has to marry Bellatrix," Fawn said with a frown. "He seems pretty decent, actually."

"And he's _dreamy_," Lottie said, fluttering her long lashes.

Hermione felt herself choke a bit on her pumpkin juice at mention of Rodolphus's looks. She'd never been up for chat about guys before, and she was unprepared to participate in it now.

Lottie rolled her eyes at Hermione. "Come on, Granger, we know that you have eyes. Rodolphus is good looking, even for a Slytherin," she said, before leaning in, a smile on her face. "Just wait until you see him in a Quidditch uniform."

"He plays Quidditch?" Hermione asked, her voice going a bit squeaky. It was an ill-kept secret of her's that she did have a bit of a...well, a bit of a _thing_ for Quidditch players, even if she found watching the sport to be a waste of time. "I didn't realize."

"Uh huh," Elna agreed. "He plays chaser."

"Arthur is on the Quidditch team, too," Fawn said, though, trying to direct her attention back to the Weasley that she was positive Hermione was going to end up with. "He's a beater."

Hermione didn't think that she had ever known that about Arthur Weasley and she figured in her time that it must have been at least a decade since he'd picked up a beater's bat, but then again she supposed that Fred and George must have gotten their skill from somewhere. "You guys, please," she whined, wanting to nip the whole Arthur thing in the bud. "I am not interested in him...he reminds me too much of..._family_," she said, her memory of Arthur's fatherliness sticking out in her mind.

"Alright, girls, leave her alone," Lottie said, patting Hermione on the hand. "If she's not interested in Arthur, it's none of our business. Besides, it's probably _better_ for her anyway. Molly always looks like she's eaten a bloody kumquat every time Arthur talks to her."

The time traveler was grateful for Lottie's interference, though the description of Miss Molly Prewett was an apt one. The older girl made no secret how much she didn't like Hermione, clearly jealous of the attention that Arthur gave her. Hermione supposed some things would never change.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I am so tickled by how many of you enjoying the Gryffindor girls :) They are a lot of fun for me! Also, I few of you mentioned it, so I just wanted to address it here - Rodolphus is not going to be the good little pureblood that thinks muggleborns are just fantastic outcast of Slytherin. It is going to be more complicated than that. It will develop, so I hope you will be patient with me and see where it is going. I am so so thrilled to share this chapter and I can't wait to hear what you think about it, so I will stop blathering on. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Huge thank you to Kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter! Please let me know what you thought of chapter five and be on the lookout for chapter six!

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October 1967

Hermione struggled to balance the numerous books in her arms while she was making her way through the aisles of books to her new favorite desk in the library. It was located up on the mezzanine level and had a wonderful view of the Black Lake, and apparently, Rodolphus hadn't been able to find it. However, it was a little more perilous to make the trek up the stairs when she couldn't see past the books she was carrying.

Sometimes she wondered if she should really _care_ that much about her marks here in the past, especially considering that they weren't ever going to _count_ for anything. Eventually, she would go back to her future and it wasn't as if she could take her History of Magic essay mark with her on account of it not even being accurate any longer. But, being able to dive head first was one of the only things keeping her sane. And, she doubted that there would ever be a time Hermione Granger could blow off her marks.

Plus, it seemed that Arthur was as allergic to the library as Ron was, so that was a bonus.

"It looks like you are having trouble with those," a sickeningly sweet voice startled her out of her thoughts. "Here, let me help you."

Before Hermione could protest, the top half of her books were levitated off, lightening her load considerably and revealing Bellatrix Black to her view. Hermione immediately felt her face pale, and she wondered what reason the Slytherin witch had to help her. She highly doubted that it was out of the goodness of her heart. Still, Hermione gritted her teeth and thanked her.

"I'll help you to your desk," she said, falling in step with Hermione up the stairs to the middle level. "Why don't you just use magic to banish them to your spot? It would be much easier than lugging them around."

Hermione swallowed, wondering if she was really about to have a pleasant conversation with Bellatrix, who had last been chasing teenagers around the Ministry of Magic, making no secret that she was trying to kill them. "Well, some of the books are quite fragile and they don't react well with that sort of magic," Hermione explained, biting at her lower lip. "And, if I'm honest, using magic isn't always the first thing that comes to my mind."

It was no secret around Hogwarts that she was a muggleborn, and she saw no reason to lie about it to Bellatrix either.

Bellatrix rewarded her with a shark-like grin, the wheels obviously turning in her mind. "Oh, of course, how silly of me," she said, leading Hermione in the direction of her desk. "But then, you obviously care a lot more about books than I do."

When they got to the desk, Bellatrix set the books down, but made no move to leave. Instead, she leaned her back against the desk, looking Hermione up and down. "So, _you're_ the witch that has so captivated Rodolphus's attention. Hermione right?" she asked, sounding innocent, even though it was clear she knew who Hermione was already.

Hermione immediately flushed from the implication. "Oh, I don't know that I've done anything to capture his attention, as you say," she babbled, needing to make clear how little she'd had to do with Rodolphus Lestrange. "We bumped into each other in Diagon Alley before school, but I can't even count on one hand the number of times that we talked."

"Still, I can understand the appeal. A new, _mysterious_ witch who shows up at school. Plus, you must know that you _are_ pretty," Bellatrix said with a smile on her face, her dark eyes glittering mischievously.

"I'm not -" Hermione started to say, wondering just how she was going to talk her way out of this situation. The _last thing_ she wanted was for a witch like Bellatrix to think that Hermione had some sort of designs on the wizard that she was betrothed to. "I'm not _interested _in Rodolphus, I swear."

Bellatrix laughed, before pushing her long, wavy black hair over her shoulder. "Oh, I am not _worried_ about you stealing him away from me," she explained. "You must have heard the rumors about him and me being betrothed, but I promise you that it's just a little misunderstanding between me and my parents. My daddy would never make me marry him if I didn't want to, and well, I don't. I'll get that all cleared up by Yule time."

It was odd for Hermione to see Bellatrix as some kind of spoiled daughter, but she supposed that it made sense. Bellatrix certainly seemed like the kind of person to always get what she wanted. But, at the same time, Hermione had the knowledge of the future, and she knew that Bellatrix and Rodolphus _did_ end up together. It stood to reason that Bellatrix's parents would be standing up to her this time.

"Oh?" was all that Hermione could manage to respond to her, her eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief.

"So, I just wanted to clear that up between _us_ witches," Bellatrix forged on, her smile showing off a dimple in one cheek. "I would just hate to think that I was standing in the way of something happening between you and Rodolphus. He's not _my_ type, but he is a decent wizard."

Hermione could not get a handle on what Bellatrix was trying to do here. "Is he?"

"And, if anything, I think that the two of you are just _perfect_ for one another," the Slytherin girl continued. There was something false about her statement, but Hermione couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"We are?" Hermione asked, wondering if Bellatrix actually thought they had anything in common with one another or if she was just willing it to be so.

"Yes," Bellatrix said firmly, nostrils flaring a bit. "Well, Hermione that was a great chat. I wager we could even be friends, maybe. But, I better let you get back to your History of Magic essay. See you around," she said, so sweetly that it _almost_ didn't sound like a threat. _Almost_.

Hermione sat at the desk in stunned silence, wondering what sort of parallel universe she had ended up in that Bellatrix Black had just suggested that someday they might be friends and that she was perfect for Rodolphus Lestrange. Everything that she knew about the pair of Death Eaters was completely turned on its head. Wanting to push the odd interaction out of her mind, Hermione opened the first book off the pile and began to read.

It was not even five minutes later that someone was slipping into the chair across from her. "Hermione," Rodolphus's deep voice startled her from the words on the page. He sounded far too pleased with himself. "Bellatrix mentioned that you were looking for me? Finally ready to stop running away from me?" he teased, leaning back into his chair smugly.

Hermione snorted in a very unladylike fashion, snapping the book shut. Eager to turn the tables on the self-satisfied Slytherin, she decided to test him about Bellatrix. "Oh, your _future wife_ was just telling me about how captivating you seem to find me," she teased right back. "Not exactly the best way to start out a relationship, Rodolphus." It was the first time that she had spoken his name aloud, she realized, hating the easy way that it rolled off of her tongue.

"Jealous, Granger?" he asked, raising one perfect eyebrow in amusement. "And why shouldn't I find you captivating? Almost no one knows _anything_ about you. It's as if you appeared out of thin air."

She realized that he didn't deny the betrothal that he had with Bellatrix Black, but at the same time he didn't deny that he was...captivated by her? It was a little bit intoxicating to think that this wizard was interested in her. "Maybe I want to keep it that way," Hermione countered, shrugging her shoulders.

"So you admit to avoiding me, then?" he asked, blue eyes roving over her face, looking for a hint of emotion to pick up on.

"I'm just... I don't see why you'd want to talk to me in the first place," Hermione said weakly, knowing that she couldn't tell him the _real_ reason why she didn't want to talk to him. How could she casually mention that he would become a horrible murderer who spent over a decade in Azkaban in the future?

She watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lip. "Is it because of Weasley?" he asked, unsure of himself. "Because if you are worried about breaking up relationships, he and Molly Prewett are practically _married_ already. And personally, I think she's way scarier than Bellatrix."

"No!" Hermione answered, wondering why everyone seemed to think that she returned Arthur's interest. Of course, she wasn't blind to his crush, but she'd done everything she could to discourage it thus far. And she didn't need to be told twice about Molly's feelings towards her. The redheaded witch had taken to giving her horribly backhanded compliments whenever they were forced to interact. "Arthur is too much like a brother to me," she explained.

"Well, _he_ certainly doesn't see it that way," Rodolphus countered. "Listen, it's obvious to me that you don't think that you are interesting enough to get to know, but why can't you let me make that determination for yourself. I'm not asking you to go steady with me or anything, just...get to know each other better. Is that so bad?"

Hermione bit at her lower lip, wondering what it was about her that drew Rodolphus to her like a magnet. But, at the same time, she could admit that there was far more about him than what meets the eye, and she was a _little bit_ curious about him. And, she couldn't deny that he was sinfully attractive. "Fine," she conceded, if only just for the moment. "What do you want to know about me?"

He gave her that lopsided grin. "Dangerous question, Hermione," he said, making her heart skip a beat. "Some of the things I want to know are _certainly_ not appropriate to discuss in the library of all places. But Hogsmeade, maybe?"

She blinked slowly when she realized that Rodolphus was asking her on a date to Hogsmeade. The whole time she'd been at school, no one had ever asked her to go to Hogsmeade and she felt her stomach fluttering with nerves and excitement. She _almost_ wanted to accept. "I don't know if that would be a good idea for someone who's basically engaged," she said, her eyes fluttering shut, reminding herself that he was _going_ to marry Bellatrix eventually.

"That's not...it isn't like that," he said, clearly annoyed that she brought Bellatrix back up again.

"Yeah, yeah, Bellatrix told me that she was going to sort things out with her daddy," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, her shoulders dropping. "Somehow, I don't think that Cygnus Black is going to change his mind about this one."

Rodolphus looked surprised, and Hermione realized that she might have revealed too much. "You certainly know a lot about Bellatrix and her family," he said, slowly.

Thinking on her feet, Hermione waved him off. "Yeah, well, a betrothal has been a hot topic of conversation at the Gryffindor table. I find it a bit archaic and odd," she said with a smile. "And the rest of the sixth year girls are feeling sorry for you, having to put up with her."

"Bellatrix is certainly a handful," he agreed, speaking like he knew from experience. That was odd, Hermione thought. It had sounded like Rodolphus and Bellatrix never had much interaction and that the betrothal was a bit of a shock.

Standing from the table, Hermione knew that she needed to hurry if she was going to make it all the way back to Gryffindor tower before curfew started. "Well, great chat, Rodolphus," she said with a half-smile, surprised by how pleasant it had really been.

He stood also. "We should definitely do it again some time," he answered, making it abundantly clear that he wasn't going to stop pursuing her.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I hope you all have a great weekend - in my neck of the woods, we are supposed to get a foot of snow, so I intend to spend the weekend holed up writing :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven soon!

* * *

October 1967

Hermione hadn't been planning on going to Hogsmeade at all. First, it just didn't feel right to go to the little village without Ron and Harry, tucked under an invisibility cloak, at her side. Secondly, she didn't have any money or any desire to buy anything there even if she did. And third, the rest of the girls in her dorm had already secured dates for the weekend, leaving Hermione as the odd one out.

"I'm _sure_ someone will ask you next time, Hermione," Elna had tittered at the vanity, pulling her blonde hair back into some rather mod looking pigtails. "Once they get to know you better."

She had wanted to tell them that she _had_ been asked to Hogsmeade, even if she didn't understand _why_, but that would mean giving the school quite a bit of gossip. The thought that Hermione Granger and Rodolphus Lestrange would attend Hogsmeade together when he was betrothed to Bellatrix Black was sure to set tongues wagging, and Hermione had no desire to be on Bellatrix's bad side.

In the end, though, she was worn down by Arthur Weasley, who had invited her to go to Hogsmeade with him and the rest of his friends, _insisting_ that they were going as a group and that it would be a fun time. Realizing that she had been a bit rude to the boy whose family had graciously taken her in over the summer, Hermione had agreed to go with him, making plans to meet him in the entrance hall on the morning of.

Lottie had giggled and wished Hermione good luck on her _date,_ something that she furiously denied. But, there was no convincing the pretty dark-haired girl.

Hermione made her way down to the entrance hall, eager to get going. It had been a long time since she had been to Hogsmeade and it would be nice to get out into the little village and see what had changed. Plus, it would help her get her mind off of how little progress had been made with the effort to get her back to her correct time. Dumbledore had shared the Unspeakable's progress report with her and he had made little headway thus far.

Arthur was already waiting for her when she arrived, hands shoved into his pockets. He brightened up immediately when he saw her, shooting her a winning smile. "How are you today, Hermione?" he asked, leading them out towards the carriages that were headed down to Hogsmeade.

She resisted telling him how she was really feeling and instead focused on her excitement to see everything the village had to offer. He helped her into one of the carriages and the next thing she knew it they were off. "Where are the rest of your friends?" she asked, wondering why they hadn't joined them. "I hope that I wasn't too late and they went down without you. I suppose we will just have to meet up with them in the village."

Making a noncommittal noise, Arthur shrugged his shoulders and began regaling her with all the different sorts of sweets were available at Honeyduke's, trying to press her for her favorite kind of wizarding candy. "Sugar quills," she finally told him. "But I don't eat too many sweets because my parents are dentists."

"Dentists?" he asked, his green eyes full of wonder at the unknown of it all. One thing was certain never to change, and that was Arthur's interest in all things muggle. He was so curious that he even breezed right over Hermione's mention of parents, a seldom discussed topic considering how much she missed her parents. "What exactly is that?"

"Oh, well, muggles need people to look after their teeth to make sure that they don't get any decay. Dentists are sort of...well, healers I suppose. They can repair the damage in muggle's teeth and help them make sure that they don't get more decay," Hermione tried to explain. "Candy is something that's known especially for hurting your teeth."

"Well, that must explain why you have such pretty teeth," Arthur said, his eyes dropping to her mouth, before snapping back up to her eyes. He turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears, stammering when he realized what he said. "I mean, smile, of course."

Hermione laughed him off. "Oh, you wouldn't have always thought that," she said, remembering how terrible her teeth had been, but knowing that she couldn't share the particulars with Arthur. It would simply raise too many questions. "My front teeth used to be entirely too large for my face."

Not a moment too soon, they were arriving in the village. Hermione forged her way out of the carriage, unwilling to let Arthur help her again. She breathed in the cold air, the icey temperature filling up her lungs, shocking her system. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but there was still some frost hanging around, not yet melted by the bright morning sun. "So, where are your friends likely to be? We should go meet up with them," she said, turning to face her companion.

Looking at his guilty face, Hermione should have known that Arthur had been suspect in getting her down to Hogsmeade. "Why don't the two of us just walk around for a bit together? We can always meet up with them at the Three Broomsticks later," he offered, trying to link his arm with hers.

Hermione pulled her arm away from her, narrowing her eyes at the seventh year. "We were never going to Hogsmeade as a group, were we, Arthur?" she demanded, already knowing the answer. "It was just you and me together, wasn't it?"

He flushed once again, his mouth opening and closing while he searched for the words to explain to her what he was thinking. "Well, I...I suppose I knew that you wouldn't want to go if I called it a date, but..." he trailed off, realizing the awkward position he'd put her in.

The brunette was furious though, completely irritated that her so-called _friend_ would have tricked her this way. She knew that Arthur was interested in her, but she had tried to tell him that that interest wasn't returned. Arthur Weasley was meant to be with Molly, not her. "You are right, Arthur. If you had asked me to Hogsmeade, I would have said no," she said, wanting to be as clear as possible. "But even worse is you _knew_ that would be my response, but you tricked me anyways!"

Turning on her heel, Hermione stalked off in the direction of the castle. Arthur shouted at her retreating back. "Hermione! Where are you going?"

She waved him off. "I'll be fine on my own!" she shouted, needing to put more distance between them, so that she didn't do something like hex the man she knew as Mr. Weasley.

Hermione knew that it was too early for any of the carriages to be going back to the school, so if she wanted to get back to Hogwarts, she would have to make the walk on her own. Thinking about it for a minute, she decided it was worth it. Besides, it would be nice to get out in the fresh air for a little while.

She had been walking on the path for a while when she realized that she heard the telltale crunching of someone following behind her. Sure that she was about to find Arthur dutifully trudging along after her, she whirled around, sending her wild hair swirling around her. "What do you want?" she asked, only to realize that it was not Arthur Weasley, but rather Rodolphus Lestrange. Flushing in embarrassment, she groaned seeing one of his dark eyebrows rise in surprise at her rudeness. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"It's not as if you'd actually be pleased to see _me _anyway," Rodolphus quipped.

"That's not true," Hermione said with a frown, even though she wasn't entirely sure if that was accurate. She didn't know if she wanted to spend any time with Rodolphus, knowing what she did about his future. At the same time, she felt a little badly about holding something against him that hadn't even happened yet. Still, wouldn't he have the potential to do those horrible things he would do as a Death Eater now? He didn't _seem _like a horrid Death Eater in her limited contacts with him thus far. He didn't seem to take anything too seriously. But...well she didn't know what he knew about her either.

Rodolphus fell into step next to her, moderating his steps so that they were walking side by side. "You seem to be heading back to the castle early. Date didn't go as planned?" he questioned, his tone indicating a hint of resentment that she'd gone with someone else.

Hermione immediately grimaced. "Yeah, Arthur and I had a...difference of opinion," she said charitably. "I was under the impression that he was inviting me to go with his group of friends and not as a...one on one thing."

"Why don't you want to go to with Weasley, anyway?" he asked, the gravel crunching under their feet in a steady rhythm as they walked.

"Oh, you know, I just think he and Molly are better suited to one another," she answered. She couldn't tell him that she knew that Molly and Arthur would end up married with a gaggle of babies, one such baby being one of her best friends. "Enough about Arthur, though. I am still so annoyed and I don't want to say something uncharitable."

"I've got _plenty _of uncharitable things to say about Weasley, if you need," Rodolphus quipped, smirking at her.

Hermione cleared her throat to stop the laugh that was bubbling up. "You are leaving Hogsmeade rather early as well. Is Bellatrix a bad date?" she needled him, wondering how the two of them would actually end up getting on with one another.

Rodolphus lifted the package under his arm. "Didn't go with Bellatrix," he explained. "I just...my little brother Rab was really upset that he can't go to Hogsmeade until third year. He really wanted to go to Honeyduke's, so I ended up going myself to get him a couple of treats."

"Oh? And what is his favorite?" Hermione wondered. Internally, she was a bit annoyed that she hadn't been able to stop at the sweet shop herself. A packet of sugar quills would have been lovely to have.

"He likes any kind of candy, to be honest. Pepper imps, though, I would say are probably his favorite," Rodolphus explained. "I'm partial to the toffee myself."

It was...too odd to be learning what type of candy Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange learned. It distorted her memories of them too much, twisting the disheveled visage of two grown men fresh from Azkaban, skinny and dirty, into something far more human. Instead, she was being forced to acknowledge that they were just a pair of brothers, who liked pepper imps and toffee and quidditch and flirting with girls and...

Hermione wasn't ready to give Rodolphus a chance, no matter how charming he appeared to be. Instead, she let the silence hang in the air between the two of them.

Rodolphus must have found it at least moderately unpleasant, because the next thing she knew, he was rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand, giving her a sideways glance. "You know if you were really pissed at Weasley," he offered with a sly grin. "You could always support Slytherin instead of Gryffindor in this month's Quidditch match."

That had Hermione rolling her eyes at the cocky Slytherin. "Fat chance, Lestrange," she said, glad that the castle was in sight, unable to stomach the rapport they were building. "I might be annoyed with him, but I _am_ still a Gryffindor."

"You've only been a Gryffindor for, what? A month now? Two?" he asked. "How loyal can you be?"

"Well, loyal enough to know that I won't be cheering for Slytherin, or for you," she said firmly. They walked into the castle together and Hermione was ready to get back up to Gryffindor tower. "Well, thanks for the company, Lestrange," she told him, before turning and scurrying up the stairs, needing to put more distance between them.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are enjoying the story and that you enjoyed the silly little plot that Arthur tried to pull. Can't believe he thought he'd get away with it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight in a few days!

* * *

**November 1967**

The thought of going to a Gryffindor - Slytherin Quidditch match filled Hermione with a persistent sort of resentment. She would not be watching Harry Potter making risky moves to catch the snitch with Ron Weasley barely able to contain his excitement. It would not be Ginny Weasley's fiery red hair racing around the pitch. Instead, she'd be sitting with a trio of giggling girls who were somehow _worse_ than Lavender and Parvati, and it would be Arthur Weasley who held the beater's bat.

When she woke up, she found that she had a permanent lump in her throat, feeling the loss of her friends more keenly than ever. She didn't _want_ to be here in the past, all alone, save for ghosts from her future. She couldn't just relax and have fun as Dumbledore continually reminded her to do. She wanted to know what was being done to get her back to her proper time, instead of worrying about pointless assignments.

By the time that she was walking down to breakfast in the Great Hall, she had nearly convinced herself _not_ to go to the match. She could spend the afternoon blissfully alone tucked away in her room where no one would be able to see her crying if a tear or two should drop down her face. She was so focused on her own little pity party that she didn't notice the figure standing in front of her until she ran into it.

Strong hands reached out for her shoulders, keeping her standing upright. Hermione's eyes darted up, only to see the blue eyes of Rodolphus Lestrange shining with amusement. "What are you doing with your head up in the sky, Granger?" he quipped with one of his half-grins. "Imagining me up on my broom?"

She snorted in amusement, wishing she could really tell him exactly how wrong he was. "You wish, Lestrange," she answered. "Now, let me pass."

"Aw, come on, don't be like that," he teased, though he released her arms from his grasp. "Are you sure I can't convince you to cheer for me today?"

Before Hermione could respond, she was shocked to feel someone slinging an arm over her shoulders. Turning her head, Hermione was shocked to see Arthur standing next to her, glaring at Rodolphus. "Didn't you hear her? She asked you to leave her alone," he sneered at the Slytherin.

Rodolphus held his hands up in mock surrender. "Whatever Weasley," he said, obviously annoyed that they'd been interrupted, before turning on his heel and marching off in the direction of the Slytherin table.

Hermione felt embarrassment and annoyance fill her body. She couldn't believe that the two of them had done that in front of the whole school. Glaring at Arthur, she slunk from underneath his arm. "I didn't need your help. I can handle Lestrange on my own, Arthur," she scolded him before heading off in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

Arthur was hot on her heels, shoving his hand back through his hair. "I just...Lestrange isn't a nice guy Hermione," he tried to explain. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know that," she insisted, sitting between Fawn and Lottie, leaving no room for Arthur to continue the conversation. She wished she could tell him exactly how much she knew his words to be the truth, but that would be revealing too much of the future. She couldn't chance changing anything more than she undoubtedly already had.

If her friends had noticed the unusual interaction she'd had with the two seventh year boys, they were pointedly not saying anything about it, and for once, Hermione was grateful. She wondered what they thought about Rodolphus's peculiar interest in her. She couldn't imagine what it was that made him so concerned with her and who she was cheering for in the first place. But, she also couldn't bring herself to ask, even though Lottie always had the most gossip in the whole school.

After breakfast, Hermione and the girls made their way down to the pitch for the game, arms linked together. Fawn was happily telling them about a Ravenclaw who she had her eye on, which was unusual for the normally studious girl. It seemed that she had been incredibly distracted lately due to his _chocolate colored hair_, and was totally unable to focus on her Charms work, owing to the fact that he always chose the spot in front of her.

Elna and Lottie were full of all sorts of advice of how to get his attention, revolving mostly around the makeover they were dying to give her. The others scoffed at Hermione's rather modern idea of just asking _him_ out to Hogsmeade. "Come on, it's the twentieth century!" Hermione had encouraged. "It's not as if there is anything _wrong_ with a girl asking out a boy."

By the time that they made it to the pitch, the crowd was roaring and both teams had already taken to the pitch, even though the game hadn't started. Hating herself, Hermione found her eyes searching out Rodolphus riding on his broom in Slytherin green uniform. She didn't want to admit it, but he did look rather attractive in his uniform. Dreamy, hadn't the girls said? It didn't seem to do him justice.

Shaking her head, Hermione tried to let herself get into the game. For once, she wasn't terrified that her best friend was going to get seriously hurt doing some kind of spectacular dive to catch the snitch. Instead, she was able to watch the whole game. It really wasn't anything like football, the sport other muggleborns often compared it to. And, if Hermione was honest, she still found it rather boring. Everything seemed a bit nonsensical when she really thought of it. What was the point of the chasers when catching the snitch netted so many more points? It was rare that a team would win on points and _not_ catch the snitch. Really, couldn't they just have one or the other? And, for that matter, what was the point of the beaters and bludgers, other than to satisfy the wizarding world's need to inject a certain barbaric quality into everything they did?

Speaking of bludgers and beaters, Hermione's attention was suddenly drawn to Arthur who was winding up and sending the black ball hurtling away from him with a crack that reverberated across the pitch. Watching the trajectory, she felt her stomach riot when she realized it was heading right towards Rodolphus and _he didn't even see it coming_.

The bludger connected with his side, knocking him straight off of his broom and down to the grass below. She watched in horror as he was only just stopped before he reached the ground by the referee. Unable to tell what was going on with the injured Slytherin, Hermione could only watch in disgust as Arthur was cheered on by his teammates for seriously hurting another player.

Rodolphus was substituted out of the game, being ushered back towards the school by the matron, cradling his arm to his chest. The game resumed, but it was won shortly by Slytherin when Niall Harper caught the snitch. Disappointment abounded amongst the Gryffindor fans, but Hermione couldn't help but think that it served them right for resorting to tactics like Arthur had.

There was still a party in the Common Room when they got back, but Hermione just couldn't get into the spirit. A small part of her was still concerned about Rodolphus, and she just knew that she wouldn't be able to relax until she knew that he was okay. Sneaking out to the Infirmary Ward wasn't nearly as difficult as she thought it would be. Even though she had friends in this new time period, most Gryffindors were not too concerned with Hermione Granger. It was times like these that she was glad for the anonymity.

The halls were unusually quiet, the students perhaps taking to their own revelry in their own Common Rooms. Hermione almost wished that she would cross paths with some Professor or other students who would question her about what she was doing and encourage her to scurry back to her own house. Instead, her feet carried her all the way to the Infirmary.

There was no sign of the matron or any Slytherin teammates lingering inside to check on their laid up chaser. Hermione pressed a hand against the door wondering if she was really going to go in or not. Knowing that she was brave at heart, she took a deep breath and walked inside with a purpose. A startled noise made her stop in her tracks.

"Granger?" Rodolphus asked sounding surprised. "Are you really here or is it just the potion Madame Middlebury gave me?"

Hermione turned to face him, his arm cradled protectively against his chest. "I was...I was just going to ask for a potion. I've got a...a terrible headache," she lied, cursing herself for not considering the possibility that he might be awake. She was just going to pop in and make sure that he was okay, and then get out again, all without being noticed.

"Oh is that all?" he asked, sarcastically. "And here I thought that you might be here to apologize for siccing your boyfriend on me."

"Arthur _isn't_ my boyfriend," she insisted fiercely, catching Rodolphus by surprise. "And I _didn't_ ask him to hurt you. I'm thoroughly irritated that he is being congratulated for it, I can assure you," she added before creeping forward towards the bed that he was laid up in. She might not particularly like Rodolphus, but she also didn't want him to be hurt.

He gave her a half grin, before struggling to sit up more in the bed and not jostle his arm too much. "Alright, then, I believe you," he quipped once he was settled. Somehow, even when he was laid up in the hospital wing, he still looked far more attractive than he should. Hermione briefly wondered what happened to transform him into the Rodolphus Lestrange that she knew. Could Azkaban really destroy a person so much?

"How are you, then?" she asked, now that the jig was up. There was no point in not asking when she'd been caught in the first place. "It looked like a vicious hit."

"I've had worse," Rodolphus said, sounding rather cavalier. "I broke my arm and dislocated my shoulder, but Madame Middlebury was able to fix it up fairly quickly. It's the bruising and the soreness that will be a real bitch to deal with. Probably have to miss practice for a week."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Leave it to a Quidditch player to think that missing practice was the worst thing that could happen, not the fact that his bones literally had to be mended. If only he knew what it was like for a muggle, she was sure he wouldn't be nearly so blase about it all. "So if she was able to patch you up, what are you still doing here?"

"She wants to just keep me overnight, I suppose to make sure everything healed correctly in the morning," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, only to hiss in pain when he lifted the arm that had been dislocated.

"Hm, I can see why," Hermione said smartly, thinking that it was a good idea to keep him, especially if he was in this much pain still. Sometimes, rest was the best prescription, and keeping someone in the Infirmary could be the only way to force them to do it. She knew that far too well herself. "Alright, well, I should be going back to my dormitory."

"Hermione," Rodolphus called towards her retreating back.

Hermione spun on her heel to look at the seventh year. "Hm?" she questioned.

"You forgot to ask the Matron for your headache potion," he said, fighting to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

She blushed fiercely at being caught in her fib. "Right," she excused herself, clearing her throat in embarrassment, before fleeing the Infirmary - and Rodolphus Lestrange - as quickly as possible.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so sorry that I haven't been able to respond to reviews yet - the week got away from me! Don't worry, though, I will respond tomorrow. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine soon!

* * *

**November 1967**

After Hermione had decided to search out Rodolphus in the Infirmary, he seemed to think that they had turned some sort of corner in their relationship. And, maybe they had, but it was a corner that Hermione wanted desperately to hide behind once again. He had resumed his old pastime of seeking her out whenever he got a spare minute.

He always tried to talk to her after her potions class, as she surmised he had a free period at the same time as her class and would spend it in the dungeons. Hermione always found herself incredibly interested in whatever nonsense James Whitby, her potions partner, wanted to talk about on her way up to the Great Hall. It was enough to keep Rodolphus at bay, and she only had to make it to the table before she was able to shake Whitby free.

Rodolphus also sought her out nearly every other day in the library no matter where she tried to sit. It drove her up the wall enough that she had finally snapped at him and asked him if he had _any_ NEWTs to study for, or if he was solely interested in bothering her. She had settled on studying in her dorm room for a week, but the girls were far too focused on other things, and she found herself crawling back to the stacks just to get a few things done.

Hermione was beginning to feel more at home in the past than ever before. She'd settled into a routine and she was making friends - it seemed that people in the past were more willing to look past some of her brusqueness, blaming it on her being in an unfamiliar situation, rather than an unflattering character trait. And, the more that she fit in, the more that she grew into her life in the past, the more the guilt began to creep in. She shouldn't be enjoying herself here, especially not when Harry and Ron were fighting some unknown outcome in the future. Had they even made it out of the Department of Mysteries? Harry always seemed to have the best luck, but holding off a handful of grown Death Eaters seemed more than Harry could handle, even with his friends.

She was laughing at an uncharitable impression Elna was doing of Professor Kettleburn one Saturday morning, when she was suddenly struck by a familiar pang of guilt, a reminder that she didn't quite fit there. Her body ached, like she was too big for her skin, and she suddenly needed to get out of the dormitory. Making her excuses to the girls, Hermione slipped out of Gryffindor and out of the castle entirely.

The November air was bitter, but welcome. It shocked Hermione back into her body, pulling her out of lofty thoughts. It was nearly too cold to be outside, but not too cold that she couldn't manage a quick jaunt along the Black Lake.

She was nearly at the edge of the Forbidden Forest when she heard the telltale crunch of leaves under feet behind her and realized someone must have followed her. Turning, Hermione was dismayed to see the broad shoulders and carefree smile of Rodolphus Lestrange. Hermione let out a noise of frustration, hating that he invaded her moment of feeling normal once again. "Merlin, can you not take a hint?" she barked at him. "Why do you keep following me around _everywhere?_"

The smirk that he'd been wearing quickly fell from his face. "Why the hell won't you talk to me?" he demanded. "I thought that we were becoming friendlier with one another. We'd had actual conversations where we were friendly, and you visited me in the hospital ward after my injury. You insist that you aren't interested in Weasley, but you push off any attempt for me to just be _nice_ to you. Why?"

Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion, wondering what would possess Rodolphus Lestrange to seek her out in the first place. She'd made no secret that she was muggleborn, so was it some kind of sick joke? "Why do you go out of your way to talk to me in the first place?" she questioned.

Rodolphus ran his hands through his hair, thinking about it for a second. "Why should I not?" he countered. "Your a nice, smart, pretty new student here. Everyone else can be nice to you, but I can't? What's so bad about me in particular that you turn tail every time you see me?"

She wasn't sure what to say and was left just opening and closing her mouth helplessly.

"I at least deserve an explanation!" he said, finally raising his voice - finally losing his cool for the first time since she'd met him.

"It's because I'm a muggleborn!" Hermione shouted back, finally snapping. "What's the point in acting friendly there is no _remote_ possibility that you and I could ever be friends?"

Rodolphus looked stunned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding unsure of himself.

"Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?" she asked, unable to meet his hurt blue eyes. "I might be new to Hogwarts, but I am not completely unaware of the way the Wizarding World works. Your family hasn't exactly made a name for being _tolerant_ of muggles or muggleborns, Rodolphus."

"So you are just going to completely write me off because of my family?" he demanded, clearly irritated that he was being reduced to something that he almost couldn't control. "That doesn't seem very fair to me."

"Neither is being completely written off by bloody purebloods because you are a muggleborn," Hermione countered, crossing her arms over her chest. It was odd to have this conversation when she didn't really ever talk about it in the future. She was sick of having to work so much harder to prove herself just because of who her parents were, especially when she proved time and time again that she could do anything a pureblood could do, and usually better.

"I haven't written you off because you are a muggleborn," he said, a fragile quality to his voice.

"Oh, so you are telling me that your family _doesn't _think that muggleborns are scum who shouldn't be allowed in the Wizarding World, and if they are, they should be reminded of their _place_?" she questioned sharply, needing to know exactly where he stood. Too often, even so-called tolerant wizards and witches had biases that they didn't know they had.

"My father might think that way," Rodolphus answered bitterly. "And my uncles and my grandparents, but I don't think that way. I've been at Hogwarts long enough to know that muggleborns are just as capable with magic, even if they are _woefully_ ignorant of pureblood traditions and society. If they are going to try to be a part of _our_ world, they should try to assimilate a little better."

"'_Our_ world'?" Hermione asked, disgust in her voice. "I didn't realize that the purebloods were the gatekeepers to the wizarding world. I was pretty sure anyone who had magic was able to participate."

Rodolphus flushed, while he thought over his next words carefully. "Well, yes, I mean...the purebloods built this world, whether you want to admit that or not. You don't have to live as a witch if you don't want to," he said hotly.

"I want to be able to learn how to control my magic and contribute to society, the same as anybody else," Hermione explained. "For as long as there has been magic, there have been muggleborns, so we are just as much a part of the Wizarding World's history as purebloods even if you can't admit it. I just don't want to be treated like a second class citizen."

"I'm not trying to _treat_ you like a second class citizen, Hermione," Rodolphus answered, obviously annoyed with the cyclical nature of their discussion. "I'm just _trying_ to be your friend. But if you don't want _that_ either, I'll just stop while I'm ahead."

Hermione nibbled away at her bottom lip, considering his words. Rodolphus seemed incredibly earnest that he didn't see her any differently, but she had to weigh what she knew from the future as well. Had something not happened yet in Rodolphus's life that would transform him into one of Voldemort's most ardent supporters? If he had a good muggleborn friend, was it possible he'd go down the same path? "I...It's not that I'm opposed to your friendship, it's just that I'm afraid I will end up hurt when you inevitably decide that your family and their beliefs are more important," she explained finally.

"My father...he doesn't expect much out of me," he revealed, his eyes dropping to the grass in shame. "He doesn't take too much interest in me or Rab, at all. I doubt he'd notice even if I told him over the dinner table."

"But, what would your father think if he found out you had a muggleborn for a friend?" she asked, even though she thought she had a good idea of what the answer would be. Still, she felt like she needed to bring it up.

Rodolphus just shook his head. "Leave worrying about my father to me," he insisted. "I can handle him on my own, without you worrying about it."

The pair of teenagers stood there together, staring at each other in silence for a long while, watching their breath make little clouds in the cold. Hermione could feel her heart hammering away in her chest, unused to feeling so unsure of herself. "So what does this mean?" she asked, finally.

"Friends?" Rodolphus offered, giving her a hopeful smile - a true smile, not one of those self-satisfied smirks or flirty half-smiles. "I'd really like to get to know you better, Hermione."

Hermione found herself returning the smile. "I don't even know _why_ you would want to be friends with me in the first place," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "But, yes, I'll be your friend Rodolphus."

"Why wouldn't I want to be your friend? You are very smart and well liked, from what I understand, and you make me laugh," he explained honestly, his smile broadening as he thought it over. "And, maybe it turns out that we won't be good friends, but I'd at least like to try."

She was sure that this was probably going to end up terribly, that she was going to end up hurt by Rodolphus's beliefs eventually. After all, he was going to grow into one of Voldemort's most ardent supporters, and he wouldn't get there by having a muggleborn for a best friend. Either she was _going_ to end up hurt, or she was going to change future events. Biting her lower lip, she knew the consequences could be disastrous, but really, what harm could come from changing a notorious Death Eater for the better? On the off chance that she might succeed, she had to at least _try_. "Alright," she said dropping her hands to her side in defeat.

"Alright?" he asked.

"You wore me down," she teased, glad that the mood was a little bit lighter now.

"Should we get back to the castle?" he asked, looking at her slightly shivering form. "You certainly aren't dressed for the cold."

Hermione laughed. "No, this was meant to just be a quick walk," she agreed, hoping that her teeth weren't chattering too loudly. Falling into step next to the taller Rodolphus, she looked up at him quickly. "How's your arm?" she asked, conversationally. "Still sore?"

"Thank you for asking," he answered, before moving the injured arm in it's socket. "It's getting better. I was cleared to go back to practice last week, but I'm still not at a hundred percent yet. I am hoping I'll be fully healthy for the Hufflepuff game. Can't let Malfoy get his first start over me or I'll never hear the end of it from him."

She was barely able to hide her laughter at that. The pair of teens continued their way up to the castle, chatting about completely innocuous topics until they were back in the warmth and safety of Hogwarts.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am glad you liked the interaction with Rodolphus - he isn't as terrible as we know from the future, but he isn't a choir boy either - expect more conversations incoming. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten soon!

* * *

**December 1967**

"Are you sure that you don't want to come with? Mum always makes the best roast turkey," Arthur said, trying to persuade Hermione to join the Weasley family for the Christmas holidays for the eight hundredth time. "I just _know_ that she'd love to have you, wouldn't she Georgie?"

George Weasley, who was standing with this brother in the Entrance Hall, ready to make his way down to the carriages, for once was agreeing with his older brother. "It really wouldn't be a bother at all, Hermione," he said, his voice beginning to lose that squeaky quality that had still plagued him over the summer. "I'm sure mum would love to host you...I think she likes being not the only girl in the house."

Still, Hermione could not be swayed. "I'm sorry boys," she said with a smile. "I just think it will be better for you to celebrate Christmas as a family. Not to mention, it will give you both an opportunity to study for your OWLs and NEWTs without me to distract you."

The younger Weasley did not need further convincing. George wished her a happy Christmas, before turning and heading out the castle, running once he got outside to catch up with his friends. Arthur, however, still did not look too convinced. "Are you sure? I have months to study for my NEWTs, and I would hate to think of you here on your own," he said with a frown. "You'll have to open your presents here by yourself...that doesn't sound very fun."

"I'll be fine, Arthur, really. You don't have to worry about me," Hermione insisted. "I actually wouldn't mind a little time alone this holiday...it's my first holiday...well, alone, and...I'm sure I'll just be sad and mopey. I wouldn't want to ruin your family's good cheer." She felt a little bit badly alluding to her mysterious family, especially when it was only half true, but she knew it was the only way to get Arthur to let this one go.

Before he could respond, Molly was running up to him. "Arthur, come on, let's get going," she encouraged, with a huge smile, perhaps glad that she wouldn't be spending the train ride with Hermione. "If you don't come down to the carriages now, we might just be forced to give your spot away to Kieran," she teased, knowing that Arthur would take the bait.

Nodding, Arthur gave Hermione one last look, like he was going to protest once again. "Go," Hermione said encouragingly, barely able to hold back her smile.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," Arthur bid her goodbye, before following after Molly, eventually catching up to her.

Hermione watched the retreating forms of her best friend's parents and was touched by how perfect they looked together even now that she was a spanner in the works. She hoped that Arthur would eventually give up on her and see the great woman who was obviously quite interested in him. Molly Prewett, while she made it abundantly clear she did not like Hermione, was a very nice witch to nearly everyone else. She was vivacious and had a spectacular laugh and Hermione just knew that Molly and Arthur would make each other very happy. The sixth year was glad that the two would be able to spend time together with Samantha and Gerald, like things were pre-Hermione, hopefully to remind Arthur of the great witch that Molly was.

Hogwarts at Christmas time was unusually quiet in 1967. Hermione wondered if it was due to the fact that there were fewer students matriculated at this time, or if this is what it always felt like. She'd never stayed behind with Harry like Ron had, instead spending the holidays with her parents. But it was nice to have some time to herself. While she adored her new friends in Gryffindor, they could be a little bit exhausting, too.

Dinner was a quiet affair. With most students gone, there was no need for everyone to sit at their own house table. Instead, only one table was left in the middle of the Great Hall. Hermione found an empty seat off by herself, not really knowing anyone else at the table and not wanting to try and make friends with some Hufflepuff who looked far happier staring into the eyes of her boyfriend instead.

She had barely taken one bite out of her mashed potatoes when she noticed the shadow looming over her. Eyes darting up, she was genuinely surprised to see Rodolphus standing there, with a rather irritable looking Rabastan at his side. "Hello Hermione," he said cheerfully, before sliding into the seat across from her.

Rabastan began tugging at his older brother's robes, trying to get his attention. "Dolph, you know we can't sit here," he whined, his distrustful eyes darting to Hermione's face again and again. "She's a...a you know."

"It's fine Rab," Rodolphus said, waving off his brother's concerns.

"But what if she tries something. You know what father always says about mudbloods and their tricks!" Rabastan hissed furiously, upset that he wasn't being taken more seriously.

Hermione was reeling from the casual way he'd said mudblood. When the Slytherins in her year said it, it was usually said with anger and spite, but it seemed as if it was a word that the Lestranges must use casually to talk about all muggleborns. Rodolphus didn't bat an eye at the word or attempt to apologize to her, instead shooing away his little brother. "Go find somewhere else to sit," he instructed sternly.

Rabastan looked like he was going to protest further, but realizing that his brother wasn't about to budge, turned on his heel and stomped away with all the self-righteous anger of a twelve year old.

Looking down at her plate, Hermione pushed her mash around her plate with her fork before looking up at Rodolphus with hurt eyes. "That's not a nice word," she said with a frown, reminding herself that this was precisely why she shouldn't be friends with Rodolphus in the first place. He didn't even think about it twice.

"He's young and doesn't know any better," Rodolphus excused his younger brother. "Don't worry too much. One of these days he'll say it proudly to some muggleborn boy who is bigger than him and next thing he'll know he'll be getting decked by Danny Peakes in the Transfiguration hallway."

"Is that what happened to you?" Hermione asked, equal parts intrigued and annoyed. She wasn't aware of anyone with that name at Hogwarts currently.

"Yes," he admitted, not embarrassed to admit to being bested previously. "Peakes was a Hufflepuff two years ahead of me, but he was massive. And us purebloods are used to dueling with wands, not with our fists. He caught me by surprise."

Hermione fought to hide a proud smirk, remembering the time that she had punched Draco Malfoy in the face. The right hook had caught him on the nose and had made him bleed. It was almost too satisfying to reveal in the way that muggleborns had a hint of an advantage over the poncy purebloods. "You could just tell him, and save him the pain," she suggested.

"Nah," Rodolphus answered, shaking his head. "The kid still worships the ground my father walks on and he'd never believe me. He's too much of a little parrot."

A few beats of silence passed between them while Rodolphus dished himself happily and Hermione cut her chicken into tinier pieces. "Did the Weasleys not ask you over for the holidays?" he asked, looking casual, even though his tone was anything but.

Hermione smiled. "They did invite me, but I thought it would be better to let him celebrate as just a family when I am perfectly content here. It's my first Christmas...away from home and I don't want to be a dark cloud on their holidays," she explained smoothly. Needing to get the conversation off of her and her past, she quickly asked him why he and Rabastan had remained behind.

"My father said it was to force me to study for my NEWTs," he said, rolling his eyes. "He's always so convinced that I am such a poor student and loves to rub it in. But, I think the real reason is because he's having some kind of party with his old school friends and they always get a little rowdy, especially after mum died."

There was so much to unpack in his explanation and Hermione was nearly desperate to dig in deeper to what he was saying, but she tried not to appear to eager. "What kind of party?" she asked, practically at the edge of her seat.

"Oh, it's just some old magic ritual, welcoming back the sun," he said, waving her off. "At the solstice, they welcome back the sun. A witch is chosen to represent the sun and they give her pine boughs and stuff to bless and she'll kiss them each to light her blessing on their family. Then they get drunk on honeyed meade."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "I've never heard of _anything_ like that at all," she said, thinking that it all sounded rather silly. "And a bad excuse to not spend the holidays with your sons," she added with a frown, wondering if Rodolphus felt rejected by his father.

He looked down at his plate. "Yeah, well, I'm sort of used to it by now. While I'm at Hogwarts, I'm not _useful_ to him. Rab still hasn't figured it out yet, but..." he said, sounding aloof. He returned his bright blue eyes to hers, a devious smile crossing his face. "You know, Granger, I've just realized that you and I will have plenty of time to spend together these holidays...what with Weasley gone home and basically all of Slytherin house, too."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Will your shadow let you?" she teased, looking in the direction of Rabastan Lestrange. The younger boy was seated down the table, staring at the pair of them intently, looking rather worried that Hermione might reach across the table and snatch out Rodolphus's beating heart at any second.

Rodolphus colored, seeing how concerned his brother still was, before laughing it off. "Hmm, I might have to consult with him, but I bet I can bribe him to my way of thinking with enough candy," he quipped back. "He means well, but..."

The Gryffindor could feel her heart soften a bit at the relationship between the two Lestranges. "It's obvious that you care a lot about your brother," she said softly, wondering if that played any part in the events of the future. If she recalled correctly, the Lestrange brothers, Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr - a shifty second year - who went after the Longbottoms. What would happen that would make this carefree young man go after Neville's parents?

Not one to be bashful, Rodolphus agreed wholeheartedly. "Yeah, well...sometimes it seems like he's all that I've got, even if he's underfoot more often than not," he explained, giving Rabastan a little wave. He set down his cutlery, having already cleared his plate. "So, since I presume you are free, can I see you tomorrow, too?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lower lip, pondering if it was actually a good idea to hang out with Rodolphus. Bellatrix was gone and presumably begging Cygnus Black to let her out of her betrothal. Still, was it a good idea to hang out with a future Death Eater one on one? Rodolphus said he was different, but did she really know? "Maybe if you can find me," she said finally, thinking that would be the best. She'd probably split her day between the library and Gryffindor tower, but she wouldn't turn him away if they crossed paths.

"I'll hold you to it, Hermione," he promised, before standing up from his spot at the table. Hermione watched as he walked down to where Rabastan was sitting, only to ruffle his hair. The two brothers left the Great Hall together, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am really glad you liked the last chapter - especially the relationship between Rodolphus and Rabastan :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peaks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!

* * *

December 1967

Try as she might to deny it, Hermione was...disappointed when Rodolphus didn't darken her reading nook in the library the first full day of break. He'd seemed determined to spend time with her and a small part of her wondered if he'd decided to take Rabastan's worries to heart. When he didn't appear the second day, Hermione was forced to acknowledge how much she'd _wanted_ to spend time with Rodolphus. There was no longer a point in acting put upon whenever he tried to speak to her.

Making a plan for the third day of break, Hermione decided to get bundled up and have a walk around the grounds. She couldn't just hole up in the library the whole entire break anyways - Ron and Harry would be scolding her for studying too much anyway.

A thick blanket of snow covered the grounds courtesy an overnight storm, and Hermione almost felt bad about leaving tracks in the pristine landscape. While she walked and listened to the crunching of her footsteps, Hermione wondered what Rodolphus might have been up to the last few days. There were hardly any Slytherins who had remained behind and she never really saw him socialize outside of his small group of friends.

Hermione walked for about an hour until her nose was pink and her cheeks were stinging from the wind, unable to admit that she was scouring the grounds for sight of Rodolphus. He'd found her last time that she was on a walk around the Black Lake, so it was only logical for her to go back. Finally, though, she had to face the facts that he wouldn't be coming out. Returning to the castle, she decided to go to the kitchens to get a hot cocoa to warm up her bones. The house elves didn't know her yet, didn't know about her habit of leaving oddly knitted clothes around the common room to free them, and would have no reason to turn away a half-frozen student.

After tickling the painting of the pear, she was greeted warmly by a gaggle of elves, who were excited to have someone to dote on. The next thing she knew she had a hot cup of cocoa in her hands, with a mountain of mini marshmallows on top. Being surrounded by dozens of the squeaky little creatures suddenly had her feeling very alone. It turned out the self-imposed solitude that she had so craved at the beginning of break now seemed suffocating, overwhelming. She was overwhelmed by homesickness, remembering that she was just an odd transplant in this alternate time. So focused on not getting attached to this time, not making any changes had made her life incredibly lonely.

Maybe Dumbledore had been right. Maybe it was best for her to forget things for a while, to just be a teenager. Maybe she needed to let the adults take care of things for once.

Mind made up to stop feeling so sorry for herself all the time. Hermione left the kitchens with a new sense of purpose, only to run directly into the arms of Rodolphus Lestrange. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her middle and keeping her upright. "Whoa, easy there, Hermione," he teased, before looking around. "Where did you just come from?"

She blushed, pointing over her shoulder at the painting. "You can get into the kitchens through there. The house elves were just babying me," she explained.

"Really?" he asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "How did you ever find that out? I've been here for seven years and I never had a clue it was there."

"I read about it, in _Hogwarts, A __History_," she explained, her words coming out disjointed as she tried to think of a good lie on the spot. She couldn't very well tell him how she'd really found it.

"That thing?" Rodolphus asked, looking at her with a mixture of awe and "Salazar, I didn't think that anyone actually read that."

Hermione bristled at the slightly disparaging way that he talked about her favorite book, but at the same time, it wasn't as if Harry and Ron liked it either, despite all of the wonderful information that was in it. "Maybe you should read it," she snarked back. "I've only been here half a year and already I found the kitchens."

Rodolphus laughed at her observation, before nodding in agreement. "Maybe you're onto something," he conceded. Then a smile worked its way across his face as he thought of something. "Say, I bet I know of somewhere really cool in the castle that you _haven't_ found yet. Have you heard of the Come and Go Room?" he asked, looking just about as eager as a puppy to show her.

Fighting a smile of her own, Hermione shook her head, even though she knew exactly what he meant. Having knowledge of the Room of Requirement would really be too difficult for her to explain away. "Lead the way, Lestrange," she encouraged.

Falling into step next to him, she found her eyes being drawn to his expressive face again and again while her feet retraced the familiar path to the Room of Requirement. He looked carefree and happy. His face was _not_ perfect - his teeth slightly crooked and a small silvery scar on the outside of his brow - but he was utterly handsome. No sense in denying that at this point. "So where have you been the last two days?" she asked, unbidden. "I thought you were going to look for me," she added, hoping that she didn't sound too put out.

She watched as that familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Miss me, Hermione?" he asked, before turning serious once again. "It seemed like you maybe wanted some time to yourself, so I didn't want to impose. But since we ran into each other…" he trailed off.

"_Literally_," Hermione said with a matching smirk of her own. "You are right, though. I did think that I wanted time to myself, but after two days in the library all by myself, I realized that I...I wanted you to come find me, like you promised," she admitted, her cheeks turning a bit pink at the reveal. It seemed too dangerous to admit, too close to flirting for her comfort.

Luckily, they were distracted by their arrival at the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy teaching the trolls to dance ballet. Rodolphus was explaining the way in which you could get into the room. "Most people think this is just a...Room of Lost Things, but us Slytherins know better. It can be anything you set your mind to, if you walk in front of this door three things while thinking of it."

"Sharing house secrets with a Gryffindor, Rodolphus?" she asked, amused that he was willing to share them with her. "What would the rest of your housemates say?"

"I'd probably be disowned," he deadpanned, before reaching for the door handle. "But you seem like the kind of witch who can keep a secret. Promise you won't go tattling on me?"

"Who would I tell, anyway? Bellatrix?" she asked, eagerly following him into the Room, wondering just what he would have conjured up.

The room seemed to be some sort of informal parlor, with huge, comfortable looking couches in blue silk on either side of a coffee table, set with a a tea service that she knew would be empty. At one end of the room, there was a window that spanned almost the full length of the room, showcasing the flurries of snow outside. At the other end, there was a massive fireplace complete with roaring fire. On the mantle was a large portrait of some young lordling astride his horse, dark auburn hair tied at the nape of his neck.

"Where are we?" she asked, enjoying the warmth that the fire gave off. She slipped into one of the couches, sighing at how plush it seemed. Leaning over, she looked into the teapot even though she knew that it would remain disappointingly empty.

Rodolphus took a seat next to her, sitting far closer than was necessary, his leg nearly pressed against hers. "This is the library at my home, where I spend most of my time," he explained, leaning back, looking utterly at home in the surroundings.

"A library without any books?" Hermione asked sounding utterly aghast, wondering how that was possible. She couldn't imagine anything as disappointing as that would be.

He laughed, pushing his hands through his hair in a tell of embarrassment. "Well, I didn't really focus on them when I was coming in here. I don't pay much attention to them at all, if I'm honest," he told her. "So you like books then?"

Hermione bit her lower lip, trying not to snap at him that it was about the most obvious question she'd ever been asked before. "You could say that. I don't spend all my time in the library because I _have_ to," she said, waving him off. Her eyes returned to the painting, able to pick out features that resembled Rodolphus, most noticeably the shade of blue in his eyes. "Ancestor of yours?" she queried.

"Yeah, that's like my great grandfather six or seven times," he explained. "First to come over to England from France. Radalf Lestrange."

"You look similar," Hermione said with a smile, before reaching over to ruffle his hair slightly. "He must be where you get the reddish color of your hair from."

Rodolphus looked utterly aghast to be told that he had even a hint of red in his hair. "I do not have red hair, Granger!" he said, pulling away from her and looking at her with shock clear in his eyes.

Hermione was unable to hold back her life. "It's not a bad thing, Rodolphus," she chided him. "And it's not as if you're _ginger_. I bet everyone would say that you have brown hair. But in certain lights...you can see a bit of red, that's all," she explained, thinking that it was too funny that he should be so vain about something like a hair color.

His affronted look melted away into something slightly more flirtatious. "Been spending a lot of time daydreaming over the color of my hair, have you Hermione?" he prodded, leaning his body towards hers.

She swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling all the humor being replaced by a queer sort of fluttering in her belly. "No," she insisted, her cheeks going bright red, even though she knew that she was telling the truth. She certainly didn't make it a habit to think about Rodolphus's hair.

He dropped the teasing lilt to his voice, too, suddenly sounding far more breathless. "It's alright, if you have," he assured her. "I've spent my fair share of time thinking about your hair - how it's the same color of toffee that I love...wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. Is it soft, I wonder?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

Rodolphus reached a hand out, but Hermione was too distracted by the shape of his lips to do anything. His fingers slipped into her hair, until his hand was cupping the back of her head. He pulled her forward while simultaneously leaning into her, their lips meeting as if by some magnetic force. Hermione felt her eyes slip shut as she took a moment to enjoy the softness of his lips, the way that the two of them fit together perfectly. He pressed against her more firmly, catching her lower lip between the two of his. The fluttering in her belly seemed to only grow wilder, until she realized it was the rapid pace of her heart, threatening to beat right out of her chest.

But then, he was pulling away, letting her free and the reality of the situation was sinking back in with startling clarity. It was one thing to be _friends_ with Rodolphus Lestrange - a dubious prospect in it's own right - but it was entirely something else to kiss him. Standing on shaky legs, like a fawn learning to walk, Hermione stared at the young man with wide eyes. Pressing a hand to her lips, she couldn't imagine doing anything but fleeing the room.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you enjoyed Hermione and Rodolphus's little chat, but more importantly their kiss. Just because Hermione ran away doesn't mean that Rodolphus is just going to give up. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Additionally, I am planning on posting another time travel au next week, but with Theo x Hermione as the pairing, so keep a weather eye for that :)

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve soon!

* * *

January 1968

After the kiss that Hermione had shared with Rodolphus, she had no choice but to return to being a hermit for the rest of the holiday break. She just wasn't sure what she was more afraid of - that she would try to kiss him once again or that they would inevitably end up in some kind of row.

It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to be friends with Rodolphus, because even though it was difficult to admit to it, Hermione did find herself enjoying time spent with the Lestrange heir. He wasn't anything like what she would have expected out of the pureblood. He didn't act like someone who wanted to eradicate all muggleborns, but if she was honest, none of the Slytherins she'd come across so far had. Even Bellatrix had been able to speak to her like she was a normal person. It wasn't as though Rodolphus wasn't prejudiced...his questionable thoughts on the wizarding world proved that he saw muggleborns as some kind of odd interlopers who should assimilate or get out. It was more that her being a muggleborn didn't come up very often.

A small part of her hoped that maybe being friends with him would help steer him to the right path, a path where he saw muggleborns as equals in society instead of some subclass that he was forced to interact with. But kissing him...dating him...was just a step beyond what she was currently comfortable with.

Luckily for Hermione, the Christmas break sped by in a blink of an eye. The Weasleys had sent her a pretty set of silver earrings and a book on the Wizarding history of their corner of Britain, which was very nice. Elna, Fawn and Lottie had gotten her a pretty hair pin, a packet of sugar quills, and a simple planner respectively. She was glad that she'd had the forethought to send them all gifts as well, or she might have felt very awkward greeting them at the returning feast.

The trio was excited to share with Hermione that Lottie's boyfriend, Marcus Hynes, had asked her to wear his ring, apparently an important step towards courtship. Hermione didn't really understand all the steps in the complex dating ritual that still seemed to be occurring in the 60s. Fawn must have noticed, because while the other girls where oohing and ahhing over the silver band Lottie wore on a chain around her neck she was whispering to Hermione that she could always ask her if she had any questions.

Hermione wanted to do just that, but first she knew that she would look to the library for a book that would explain everything. She didn't know just how little she truly understood Fawn would find unusual, and the less questions her friends had about her life before Hogwarts the better. So, she thanked the blonde before informing the rest of her roommates that she was off to the library to study. Elna grinned at her, wishing Hermione luck and simultaneously bemoaning her lack of dedication to her studies.

As she was walking towards the doors, she noticed that Rodolphus stood up from the Slytherin table, making his way towards her as if he wanted to talk. Even though the rest of their _witnesses_ were back - she very much doubted he would try to kiss her in front of all these students - she still wasn't ready to talk to him either. Doubling her speed, she slipped out of the Great Hall, not bothering to check if Rodolphus was following her.

Finding her trusty reading nook empty, Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she noticed that Rodolphus hadn't followed her to her sanctuary. Pulling out her potions book, she began reading through their assigned passage on creating poison antidotes and found herself actually missing Professor Snape. Professor Slughorn was nice enough, but he clearly played favorites - whoever he thought would have the most influence later in life - and she found herself not nearly as engaged. Of course, Professor Snape always made her feel on edge, but at least her potions were on point.

She was barely a page into her reading when someone sat down across from her in the little window seat that she'd found. Looking up from her book, Hermione was dismayed to see Bellatrix Black sitting there, staring at her with a cheshire grin, an eerie echo of the witch she would become in the future. "What do you want Bellatrix?" Hermione asked, thinking that not nearly enough time had passed since she'd last been subjected to the witch.

Bellatrix was not deterred, though, no matter how rude Hermione sounded. "Is that really anyway to talk to your _old friend_ Bellatrix? You didn't even ask me how my Yule was. That was very rude, Granger," she answered, sounding a little bit put out.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, how was your Yule, Bellatrix? Did you get your father to break off your betrothal?" she prodded.

_That_ question did get the other witch to look a bit more upset. Bellatrix's eyes dropped to her lap. "Well, now that you mention it, no, daddy did not dissolve the betrothal _yet_," she explained. "But I'm working on it, so you don't need to worry your little mudblood head about it."

The Gyffindor was unsurprised that the witch would call her that name to her face, but she still wasn't happy with it. "That's not very nice, Bellatrix," Hermione seethed. "I thought that we were friends," she mocked the other witch's announcement that they would be the best of friends. She couldn't imagine Harry or Ron ever calling her mudblood at all. For that matter, she couldn't imagine Rodolphus openly using that word with her either.

"Oh don't be so _sensitive,_" Bellatrix said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Some people can be _so touchy_. But don't worry, Hermione. I know the real reason that you are so upset," she added, reaching out to pat Hermione on the arm with all the compassion of a jellyfish.

"Really?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "And why would that be?"

"You just want to be free and clear to go after Rodolphus, and you keep letting this pesky, silly, little betrothal get in the way of your happiness," Bellatrix explained, her voice quickly transformed into a familiar sing-song. "And here I am telling you that it's still on. But I _promised_ you that I would handle things with my daddy. The betrothal is as good as over. You just need to let me handle it. Don't hold back from Rodolphus."

"Bellatrix, I don't know the best way to explain this to you," Hermione said, biting her lower lip. "I know that you think there is something going on between me and Rodolphus, but there just isn't. The betrothal isn't holding me back." The lie tasted sour in her mouth, but she knew that she had to keep it that way.

The Slytherin witch smirked at her, pushing her long black hair over her shoulder. "Oh, you are _adorable_ when you try to lie to me, Granger," she cooed. "I _know_ that something happened between you and Rodolphus. The way that you practically sprinted away from him in the Great Hall made it more than obvious to me. Don't worry, you won't be breaking my heart if you go and plant a big kiss on his lips in front of the whole school."

Setting aside the fact that Bellatrix really seemed far too interested in seeing her and Rodolphus in any amorous acts, Hermione was mostly disturbed that she had been so obvious when she left dinner. How many other of their classmates were formulating their own theories about what had gone on between them over break? "Nothing happened," she insisted, swallowing thickly.

"You really expect me to believe that?" Bellatrix laughed, shaking her head. "The pair of you were here all by yourselves for nearly a week without any supervision to speak of. I can just imagine it now - handheld walks around the grounds, ducking under mistletoe to snog...maybe he even snuck you into his dorm. Salazar knows you muggleborns are wanton."

Hermione blushed red in anger at the suggestion. The idyllic little scene that Bellatrix had narrated was nothing at all like the rather chaste kiss that they had shared. "Well you are wrong. And it's not as if we were alone….even Rabastan was here."

Bellatrix giggled. "See, I _knew_ that you wanted to get your little hands all over Rodolphus. Though Rabastan is a little shadow isn't he? That probably didn't leave you much time alone with one another," she said, drifting off in though, tapping a finger against her lip while she thought. "You should insist that Rodolphus take you to the next Hogsmeade weekend. It's near Valentine's day. It would be so romantic."

"I'm just not that interested in Rodolphus," Hermione said, wishing that it was the truth.

"Come on, what's not to like about him? He's _very _good looking and he's a talented Quidditch player," Bellatrix said, clearly trying to talk him up. "And even though he doesn't _apply_ himself very well, Rodolphus is smart. I can just see the two of you having all sorts of philosophical debates together."

"If you like him so much, why don't _you_ just marry him?" Hermione asked, feeling a bit exasperated that Bellatrix was trying to play matchmaker with her future husband.

The other witch waved her off. "He's just not my _type_ you know?" she said, her eyes finding some far off spot, her face transformed by a rather pretty smile while she thought about the wizard she was after. "I need someone with a bigger vision, someone willing to do whatever it takes to get the outcome he wants. Someone with the same kind of...priorities as me."

A cold tingle ran up Hermione's spine when she realized that she knew _exactly_ who Bellatrix was talking about. It had been a long time since Hermione had thought about Voldemort and that fact that he was out and running free now. There were no mysterious disappearances yet, no signs that he was ascending to power. So how was it possible that Bellatrix would have known about him, and enough to become enamored with him? Was her father involved with Voldemort now? Hermione always thought that they agreed with what he was doing, but only leant material support.

Biting her lip so that she didn't say what immediately came to mind - some very choice swears if she was honest - she settled for giving the other witch a tight smile. "Well, I hope that you find someone more suited to your tastes, Bellatrix," she said, hoping it was suitably diplomatic.

It must have done the trick because Bellatrix was giving her a warm smile, one that rather made her look like a shark. "Ah, see, I think we are well on our way to being friends," she cooed. "So promise me that you will at least give Rodolphus a chance?"

Still unable to figure out Bellatrix's angle, Hermione shrugged her shoulders noncommittally, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy her for now. She didn't want to think about the tantalizing prospect of giving Rodolphus a chance, no matter how nice some of the suggestions Bellatrix had given her sounded.

"Well, I won't keep you from your _studies_," Bellatrix condescended. She finally stood up from the window nook, smoothing down her uniform skirt with flourish. "Think on what I said, Granger. And I _will_ be seeing you around." She marched away after that.

Hermione was left sitting by herself, feeling more mixed up and confused than she'd been before, but most notably concerned that Bellatrix's promise once again sounded very much like a threat. Oh how in Godric's name had she ended up entangled with all these Slytherins and future Death Eaters? Why on Earth did they find a lowly muggleborn like herself so worthy of attention?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am excited that you are enjoying this different Bellatrix. She has been lots of fun to try to characterize. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. HUGE thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve and be on the lookout for chapter thirteen soon!

* * *

January 1968

The pending Hogsmeade weekend in combination with the Valentine's holiday had turned the school population crazy. Hermione had never seen anything like this in all her years at Hogwarts in the future. It seemed as if everyone was far more concerned with finding a mate that they could marry so soon as they graduated school, so it seemed as if the courting ritual of Valentine's Day would fit neatly into that.

It wasn't as if the looming holiday had made Hermione sour to it. She quite enjoyed the pink decorations that were up in the Great Hall and the swoop of owls bringing into orders for chocolates and gifts for a special someone. She was ready to spend several nights chatting with her girlfriends about all the gossip around the castle of who was going with who, especially now that she had a better idea of who everyone was.

No, the biggest problem she had was the little seed that Bellatrix seemed to have planted about Rodolphus taking her for a romantic Hogsmeade weekend.

Rodolphus and Hermione had been slowly building up their relationship again since the holiday break. Neither one of them talked about the kiss that they had shared, though Hermione was embarrassed to admit that she thought about it more often than she wanted. Instead, they focused their brief talks on schooling. Rodolphus realized the need to buckle down now that his NEWTs really were looming, and Hermione was happy to have a very, very occasional study partner.

Keeping things strictly academic was safe, but boring. She missed the times that he would make her laugh by saying something snarky about Professor Slughorn's lazy teaching style. She even found herself fondly remembering the ecstatic way that he would talk about his upcoming Quidditch matches.

But when she finally caught Bellatrix flouncing over to Rodolphus's spot at the dinner table, whispering in his ear and making sure to look at her, Hermione knew that she was encouraging him to ask her out for the next Hogsmeade weekend, and that was just something that Hermione couldn't allow. Her heart thudded in her chest when she thought about the possibility...surely she couldn't go out on a date with him, could she?

She needed to come up with some way to get out of it, and to her surprise, it came from none other than Arthur Weasley. When she stood up from the dinner table that evening, he happily hopped up and asked if he could accompany her back to the Common Room. Seeing Rodolphus give her longing eyes, Hermione nodded, for once happy for Arthur's company.

Once they were out of the din of the Great Hall, Arthur grew nervous. "I never apologized for how I handled the Hogsmeade weekend," he said, the tips of his ears going a bit pink. "I just wanted to take you for your first weekend, but I knew you wouldn't go if you knew it was just going to be you and me"

Hermione cleared her throat, not entirely sure what to say. "I'm...I accept your apology, Arthur," she said, thinking that it was the only safe thing she could say. It had been months since their disastrous 'date', and Hermione had long since stopped holding it against him.

"Good, good," he said before silence fell over him. Once he had gained enough courage, he got to the point that he really wanted to. "So, I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with my friends and I this time?" he asked. He chuckled when he saw her nonplussed face. "I know what you are thinking - it's not another trick, I promise. A bunch of us are going - Sam and Gerald, Molly will be there, and Kieran, too. We decided that we don't have many Hogsmeade weekends left, so we would rather spend it with friends."

She bit her lip, thinking his words over. Arthur seemed earnest, and she didn't think that he would try the same tactic twice. Confident that he was telling the truth, Hermione knew this was her opportunity to get out of having to turn down Rodolphus. "Oh, alright, but only if I won't be intruding."

"We'd love to have you come with," he said brightly, looking at her with an eager smile.

Briefly, Hermione wondered if this was a terrible idea. Did Arthur still not realize that she was not going _with_ him, but rather just with his group of friends? That she only agreed because she knew it would prevent her from going with Rodolphus Lestrange. Was Arthur even aware of the warming trend in her and Rodolphus's relationship?

The morning of the Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione was pleased to see the rest of Arthur's friends waiting with him for her. A teeny tiny part of her had been concerned that it was nothing more than a trick. They all greeted her warmly and introduced her formally to Kieran, another of the seventh year boys who she knew by face alone, but hadn't actually talked to before. Hermione got the impression that Molly and Sam were not exactly excited to have her coming along, but she shook it off. It wasn't as if it would have been a double date if she hadn't been there, seeing as Kieran had tagged along too.

The ride down to the village was rather uneventfully, with Arthur happily telling the group that he'd secured a job offer with the Ministry of Magic in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts division, contingent upon him passing his required NEWTs. Hermione warmly congratulated him, knowing how much he loved that job in the future, despite it not offering a hefty salary. In turn, Arthur was quick to pick her brain on a few muggle subjects, mostly certain dental implements. It seemed that he had done some research after their talk and was concerned that some of their tools could be used as torture devices.

After a quick stop at Honeyduke's to get so much needed sweets - which Hermione was pleased to see that Arthur didn't even try to pay for - the group of Gryffindors decided to head to the Three Broomsticks for drinks and snacks before the crowds would pack in. They piled into a booth in the back corner that was large enough for all of them, and unfortunately, Hermione found herself pressed into the corner next to Arthur and across from Molly. Trying to keep her focus on her butterbeer, Hermione refused to acknowledge the rude look that Molly was giving her.

"I've made some biscuits," Molly said brightly, pulling them out of her bag, ready to share with the table. "Oatmeal and toffee."

Arthur eagerly took one of the offered treats, biting into it immediately. "Ah, these are my favorite, Molly," he said with a grin on his face. "Here, Hermione, you have to try one," he encouraged, pushing the biscuits towards her.

Based on the pretty blush on Molly's cheeks, Hermione suspected that Molly had advanced knowledge of Arthur's favorite kind of biscuit. Her choice of variety was no mistake. Not to mention, it was still her specialty back in Hermione's correct time, when they were made for special occasions. Unable to stop herself from wanting that hint of nostalgia, Hermione took a biscuit as well. "These are _amazing_, Molly," Hermione said, giving the teenage version of Ron's mum a hesitant smile. "You are a wonderful cook."

Molly rewarded her with one of those rather pinched looking smiles, like she'd rather Hermione not have spoken to her at all. "Yes, well, I...thank you," she stumbled, unsure of how to accept the compliment.

Conversation continued, and Hermione was content to sit there just taking in what everyone else was saying. She wasn't entirely sure how it came up, but they got on the topic of squibs. "I understand that the Squib Allegiance is going to make demands of the Wizengamot later this week," Molly said, sounding rather knowledgeable about it. "It's awful the way that they are treated and I think it's high time that they got some more rights."

"Come on Molly, it's not as if they can just start accepting Squibs to Hogwarts," Gerald said, with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, they need rights, but they are asking for too much this time."

Hermione was unable to stop from butting in. "While I agree that they can't just be let into Hogwarts, it's not as if they have no rights to be educated. There is plenty to learn even if you can't do magic," Hermione said, passionately defending the Squibs, who were in many ways on the opposite side of the coin from muggleborns. "It's not right the way some families just disown their Squib relatives or push them out into the muggle world without any assistance."

"Well said, Hermione," Arthur said proudly, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

"Hm," Molly said, unable to stop herself from making a little noise to let her know that she didn't approve of Hermione's thoughts on the matter.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione glared at the other woman. She was sick and tired of being so nice to Molly and looking past all of the little snide remarks that she made, pretending as if they weren't happening. "What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

Molly answered with a mean little smile and feigned surprise. "Oh, I just thought it was unusual that _you _of all people would take that kind of stance," she said, looking Hermione up and down. "What with all the time that you spend with Lestrange."

Hermione grit her teeth. "What does Rodolphus being my friend have _anything_ to do with Squib rights?" Hermione asked, narrowing her brown eyes in frustration. She hadn't quite realized that her friendship with Rodolphus had been enough for Molly Prewett to notice. Godric, her own roommates hadn't even said anything about it.

"It's just...well, it's no secret what his family is like," Molly continued, twisting the dagger a bit more. "His father is practically leading the charge against Squibs _and_ muggleborns in the Wizengamot and yet here you are, friends with him."

"Rodolphus isn't his father," Hermione insisted, her jaw tightening in anger. It was true...for as much time as she'd spent with Rodolphus, he certainly wasn't foaming at the mouth to rid the wizarding world of muggleborns like she would have expected. His views - on the rare occasions they had talked about them - were nuanced and inconsistent.

"I suppose you might believe that," the older girl countered with a smirk, as though she knew some sort of information that Hermione didn't. "Listen, Hermione...I understand that to you, Lestrange probably has certain _charms_. I mean, we all have eyes and know how much you are always mooning over him. But, you have to see that he's just using you, don't you? One last muggleborn fling before he marries Bellatrix Black. _She's_ the kind of witch that his family will accept. Not someone with your dubious background."

Hermione felt herself flush completely, Molly's words hitting a little too close to the quick for her liking. It _was_ something that she had wondered herself, unable to trust Rodolphus as being genuine. "I don't know where you've gotten such fanciful ideas of mine and Rodolphus's friendship, Molly," she said icily clear. "But you're wrong. We are just friends. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to leave."

The rest of the Gryffindors shuffled out of the booth so that she could get up, and to her dismay, Arthur followed her outside. "Hey, Hermione, please wait," he called out, turning her to look at him. "Molly was well out of order there," he said with a frown, eyebrows bunched together while his eyes roved her face. "But, you know...I am a little worried about you and Lestrange. I just...I'm suspicious of him, is all. Maybe you should think it over."

She was too furious to listen to his words - even though they were coming from a place of genuine concern. "I can take care of myself, Arthur," she insisted, before leaving him in the center of Hogsmeade, needing to be alone with her thoughts.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter, but I hope that you will really enjoy what I've got in store for this one, too! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions. Huge thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirteen and be on the lookout for chapter fourteen soon!

* * *

February 1968

It seemed as if some things about Hogwarts would never change, namely all the excitement that proliferated around Valentine's day. Elna, Fawn, and Lottie woke Hermione up bright and early to encourage her to put her utmost into her appearance for the day, even though it was a rather unremarkable Wednesday.

Once she was in her freshly pressed uniform for the way, her wavy hair styled artfully with a pale pink ribbon lent to her for the day by Elna, they declared her ready for the day. The four Gryffindors made their way down to the Great Hall arm in arm, trying brainstorm any of their classmates who might decide to send them something as a token of their affection.

Fawn must have sensed some of the nerves and tumult that Hermione was feeling because she was whispering quietly into Hermione's ear so that no one else would hear it. "You know, no one would think any differently of you if you wanted to start seeing Lestrange," she said with a bright pink blush on her pale cheeks. "It's clear there is no love lost between him and Bellatrix."

Hermione swallowed thickly, hating the traitorous way that she wanted to take Fawn's advice and run with it. Since their holiday break, Hermione and Rodolphus had resumed casual contact, though Hermione resolutely ignored the elephant in the room, and wouldn't acknowledge the sweet kiss that they'd shared, even though she was growing quietly desperate for a repeat. Still, she didn't think that she could bare the thought of a relationship between her and Rodolphus actually becoming a reality. She squeezed Fawn's hand in appreciation of her words. "Thanks," was all she could possibly muster to respond to _that_ statement.

The Great Hall was decorated with all assortment of floating streamers and clouds of pink ephemera. Tiny winged cupids flew around from table to table, giggling and shooting arrows at unsuspecting students, something that she thought might have something to do with Peeves the ever-present poltergeist. It was a nice, if a bit goofy, scene.

Sitting in their usual spot for breakfast, Hermione quickly made herself a bowl of oatmeal, thinking that she wouldn't be able to stomach much more due to her nerves. The post began to swoop in not much longer and fully laden with perfumed notes and tiny packages, telegraphing that students had a secret (or not so secret) admirer. Delighted squeals began to sound off through the hall as girls received whatever baubles from the love interest in their lives. Lottie had received a rather large package from her steady boyfriend Marcus, while Elna had racked up a healthy little pile of gifts. Even Fawn had gotten two little notes that had her blushing in amusement.

Hermione was glad that the three of them were far too intrigued by their own gifts that they didn't notice the slim rectangular package that had dropped into her oatmeal. Quickly grabbing the package, she hid it under the table, using her wand to clean it. Opening the box, she found a healthy portion of Honeyduke's fudge and a little note from Arthur, wishing her a happy valentine's day.

Unbidden, she looked down the table at the redheaded boy and saw him staring down at his bangers and scrambled eggs, blushing at the plate, completely unwilling to meet her eyes for once. Sighing, Hermione knew that she was going to have to set Arthur straight for once and for all. But it could wait for another day. She didn't want to give him a false hope by talking to him on Valentine's Day.

The rest of the day passed by without much issue. Her classes were moderately disrupted by flirting couples and she got the impression that most of their professors were thoroughly annoyed that their lesson plans were not going to get accomplished. Hermione kept her head down, moving from class to class, determined not to be waylaid by Arthur.

After classes, she told her Fawn that she was going to the library instead of to the Great Hall for the feast, lying about an essay that she needed to finish for Ancient Runes. In lieu of dinner, she swung by the kitchens and found that the elves were only too happy to give her a sandwich to take to the library. Finding her favorite desk with ease, Hermione settled in for the night, eating her lonely dinner all by herself.

Spreading her books out in front of her, she decided that even though her essay wasn't due for another two weeks, it was no reason not to get a head start on it. Eagerly inking her quill, she started writing, stopping every now and again to reference her text or other books that she had found in her research.

When she was nearly halfway done, Hermione set her quill down, raising her arms over her head to give her back a well-needed stretch. Rolling her head side to side, she started to wonder if it would be safe for her to return to the common room for the evening. Before she could make a determination, hands were coming up from behind her to cover her eyes.

"I've got a present for you," a slightly gravelly voice whispered in her ear, sending a delighted shiver up her spine. She would recognize Rodolphus's voice anywhere at this point, she was certain, and she couldn't deny the bolt of excitement in her heart when she thought that he might be giving her a present for Valentine's Day. A very small part of her had been worried that he'd completely forgotten about her, even though she knew that he would be more than entitled to, the way that she had shunned him time and time again. "Open your eyes," he commanded, removing his hands from her face.

There, resting on top of her essay, was a rather worn looking book, the title embossed in gold. "_The Decline of Pagan Magic?"_ Hermione asked, tracing the title with one finger.

Rodolphus pulled the chair next to her out, before settling in next to her. His body was angled towards her, completely unbothered by the way that their thighs were pressed together. "Well, yeah, you said that you liked _Hogwarts: A History_, so I figured you would like more of Bagshot's work," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck, the way that he always did when he was nervous. "Plus, I thought you might like learning more about the Pagan rituals, since a lot of pureblood families still practice them, even if it's just in private."

Hermione flushed, thinking that it was a really lovely gift. He had remembered her off-hand comment about loving _Hogwarts: A History_, despite his own proclamation that he didn't think much of the book himself. And, he must have known about her desire to know everything that she didn't understand. "Like your family's Yule celebration?" she asked, paging through the thick book.

"Yes, that will be in there, too," he agreed with a chuckle. "Though more traditional than what my father puts on, I'm sure. His is mostly an excuse to get drunk, if you'll recall."

"Rodolphus, this is a first edition! This must have cost a lot of money," she added, knowing how rare it must truly be. She couldn't believe that he would be spending that kind of money on her.

He didn't seem phased at all and instead rewarded her with a shy smile. "Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione," he said simply, hopefully, reaching towards her hand to give it a little squeeze.

She felt her breath leave her at the look in his dark blue eyes and felt herself leaning into him. "Thank you, Rodolphus," she said, a blush staining her cheeks.

Her eyes slipped closed when she saw him leaning into her, eyes trained on her lips. She sighed into him when their mouths connected in a kiss, unwilling to let this one be over so soon. Throwing caution to the wind for once her life, she pressed against him more firmly, becoming an active participant, feeling a thrill of desire inside her at how easily they fit together.

Before long, though, he was pulling away from her, smartly not pushing her too far too fast. "I hope you'll let me do that again," he hedged, his voice transformed by desire, pupils slightly dilated.

Hermione dropped her eyes to her lap, unable to hide the smile from her face. The voice inside of her, the voice that knew what the future held for this man, was growing quieter and quieter in its demand that she leave well enough alone with Rodolphus. Instead, she was filled with the encouragement of Dumbledore to live a normal teenage life, Bellatrix's assertion that she and Rodolphus were well suited, and Fawn's quiet promise that no one would bat an eye at her relationship with him. Further, she could no longer deny the desire and attraction that she felt for Rodolphus. Maybe she could give it a try. After all, he wasn't going to be at Hogwarts for much longer.

"I hope that you will," she said finally, biting her lower lip, meeting his eyes cautiously. It was a lot to admit, both to herself, and to Rodolphus, but for once in her life she was going to go with her heart rather than all the logic trying to sway her to the contrary, and just hope that she wouldn't get hurt along the way.

Rodolphus, to his credit, looked utterly surprised at her pronouncement. Eyes going a bit wide, it looked almost like he couldn't believe her, before regaining his composure. He rewarded her with a half smirk, only to cup her jaw gently, pulling her down to kiss her again. This time, he was not shy about deepening the kiss, moving with confidence and ease, making Hermione moan in surprise at the feeling.

Once she was thoroughly kissed breathless, Hermione was pulling away, fighting a smile of her own. "We can't spend all night snogging in the library," she told him, looking back to her desk.

"Salazar, Hermione, if I'd known all it would take to get you to kiss me was one measly book, I would have given you one a long time ago," he said with a chuckle. "Does this mean you will be my valentine?"

Hermione returned his smile. "I suppose it's a little late in the day, but...yes, I will be your Valentine, only..." she bit her lower lip trying to think of the best way to say what she wanted to say. "Only if you don't go shouting it from the rooftops."

"What, worried Weasley might find out?" he asked, with an annoyed sneer.

"No, it's just...well, with you and Bellatrix being betrothed and all that," Hermione explained awkwardly. "Even though the _both_ of you are insistent that I shouldn't worry about it, and Bellatrix has been particularly insistent that I go for you...I don't really want to get a reputation as someone who is disrupting a betrothal."

"Bellatrix has been encouraging you to go after me?" he asked, caught off-guard by her statement.

"Yes, actually," Hermione told him. "She seems to think that...that you and I are suited for one another, even though I don't think she knows enough about me to really make that sort of assessment, but..."

Rodolphus shook his head, a slightly troubled look on his face. "I don't really know what she's up to..." he trailed off, lost in thought, before returning his brilliant blue eyes to her face. "But if I can still kiss you whenever I want, I suppose I don't see much reason to think about it."

Hermione smiled, feeling a little glimmer of joy settling in her belly at his pronouncement. "Well, maybe not _whenever_," she cautioned. "But you don't have to give me a book every time that you want to." Her hands found the book again, tracing the worn spine. "Can I ask you about the rituals in here?" she asked, excited to get started.

"Of course. Don't know how much of a resource I will be, but I can try," he agreed.

They spent the rest of the evening talking quietly in the library, legs pressed together until the matron was coming around to remind them about curfew. Rodolphus left her with one last devastating kiss goodnight before sending her off to Gryffindor tower for the evening.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you liked the tentative beginnings to their relationship - so sweet and so new. I am really curious to hear what you all will think of this chapter...I wasn't really sure about it and struggled with it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen and be on the lookout for chapter fifteen soon!

* * *

February 1968

It seemed as if the floodgates had burst open once Hermione had told Rodolphus just how much she wanted to kiss him. And he was content to kiss her again and again and again.

She felt lighter than air for the first time since coming to the past, content to remain wrapped up in the warm bubble of teenage love as long as she possibly could. That meant letting the seventh year boy pull her into his lap when they would study, away from prying eyes, in the library, even though she _knew_ that he should really be focusing on his NEWT preparations. He never seemed to push her further than she was wanting, content to keep his large hands pressed against the gentle curve of her waist, holding her against him sweetly.

And she could have kissed him for hours. He was really far too good at snogging, knowing just how to move his lips against hers to have her melting against him. They'd only been at it for two weeks, but he seemed to know _exactly_ what she wanted, even before she knew that she wanted it.

At the same time, things seemed to be moving entirely too fast. Hermione found herself utterly caught up in the excitement of having a secret boyfriend - was Rodolphus Lestrange really her boyfriend, she privately wondered? - that she had nearly forgotten all her prior reservations about his future, even if they were still rattling around in her brain a bit. A part of her wanted to curse herself for waiting quite so many months to get over herself. If she'd known how Rodolphus could make her feel, she would have not put up such resistance. Now, the time until he was set to graduate seemed to be speeding by much faster than Hermione was willing to accept.

That wasn't to say that their relationship had been reduced to romantic mush, all stolen kisses and furtive pets over uniforms. They still spent a lot of time chatting about this and that. Hermione had been devouring the book that he'd given her for Valentine's Day in her spare time, trying to savor her time with it, whilst at the same time being utterly fascinated by the rituals described.

She knew the majority of them peripherally, but it seemed that there were many pureblood traditions wrapped up into it. Her cheeks had colored when she'd read all the sexual undertones of the Winter Solstice rituals that Rodolphus had mentioned, but she hadn't been able to work up the courage to ask him _just_ how traditional his family really was.

Rodolphus had offered to walk her back to Gryffindor tower after spending a solid hour in the library. Hermione had readily agreed, knowing that they would inevitably end up in some hidden alcove or empty classroom for at least one goodnight snog, should they not be waylaid by a prefect or professor. Seeing as the hallways were mostly deserted, Hermione didn't mind holding Rodolphus's hand as they chatted about the upcoming Vernal Equinox.

"So your family really does the whole rabbit blood ritual?" she asked, biting her lower lip, thinking that it sounded utterly horrifying.

"Well, not as long as I can remember," Rodolphus said, his eyebrows drawn together while he tried to remember back that far. "There hasn't been a woman in my family for a long time now, not since mum died," he explained. "I don't remember if she would have done it before Rabastan was born. I was really little then."

The Vernal Equinox was focused on female fertility and new life. It involved ritual animal sacrifice and the drinking of fresh rabbits blood and it turned Hermione's stomach the more that she thought of it. "Your father would have asked her to do that?" Hermione asked, sounding horrified.

"Well, yeah, heir and a spare and all that," Rodolphus answered with a shrug. "After all, six years between sons is a very long time. He might have been getting concerned."

Hermione let out a huff of annoyance. "A woman's worth isn't based on her ability to produce sons," she said with a roll of her eyes. "And the whole thing just sounds barbaric to me."

Rodolphus was silent for a beat. "Some of the things muggles do seem barbaric to me," he murmured finally, leaving an uncomfortable air of silence between them until they crested the seventh floor stairs together. "Listen, I don't want to argue with you about little rituals that I have no interest in participating in," he said. "I'm far more interested in giving you a proper kiss goodnight."

She was only too happy to give into that idea and let Rodolphus walk her towards the wall, until her back was pressed up against the cold stone. He was a fair bit taller than she was, but the height difference never bothered either of them when he was leaning down to kiss her. One large hand cradled her jaw, holding her just so she was tilted up to him at the best angle possible, while at the same time supporting her. His other hand always found her skin, tracing along the smooth column of her neck before dipping further into her hair, tangling through the wavy strands.

Hermione was happy to let him lead in their explorations, as he'd always led them in a good direction, never pushing her to too fast. Instead, she would get lost in the feeling of him, of the careful press and swipe of his tongue against hers. She would have been content to stand there kissing him all night, but both of them knew that he had to get back to the dungeons before curfew.

She stood and watched him leave with a silly little smile on her face, excited about this secret she had, with none of her friends - not even the ever supportive Fawn - any the wiser.

That was until a throat cleared, and brought Hermione attention to a furious looking Molly Prewett staring at her. "I can't believe you, Granger," she said with fury in her voice. "I can't believe that you would go leading poor Arthur on all this time and then be snogging Rodolphus Lestrange behind his back."

Hermione was caught off guard, but quickly snapped into action, looking to nip Molly's fascination between her and Arthur in the bud. "I don't know what you think is going on between me and Arthur, but I promise you it isn't what you think. He's my friend, plain and simple," she said evenly, determined not to fight with the other witch. "I'm not betraying him, because we aren't together."

Molly's cheeks turned bright red in annoyance, obviously trying to keep hold on her temper, leaving Hermione to wonder if the famous Weasley temper was really a Prewett trait all along. "Look, I realize that Arthur doesn't want me when you are around," she said, even though it was clear that it hurt her to say the words out loud. "But, I won't let you hurt him by sneaking around with a Slytherin. Even if he and I...aren't meant to be...I still just want Arthur to be happy. And for some reason you make him happy."

In that moment, Hermione realized just how like Ron Molly really was. Yes, they were both prone to jealousy, but in the moments were it really mattered, it was clear that they were willing to put their own feelings aside if it was the right thing for their friends. Because friendship was important to them both. "Molly…" Hermione said, her anger fading away.

"I am not going to allow Arthur to be hurt by you betraying him, so-"

"Molly, I promise you that Arthur and I _aren't_ together. And while Arthur is a nice friend, I just don't see him as a romantic partner for me, even if he might have some other ideas," Hermione explained, biting her lower lip. "And well, the truth is...I like Rodolphus. I'm not going to stop seeing him just because Arthur's feelings might be hurt."

The other witch deflating, the truth of the words seeming to _finally_ sink in, that Hermione was not actually trying to play the two wizards against one another. "But, you are always flirting with him," she said, sounding a little dumbfounded.

"No," Hermione insisted, shaking her head back and forth. "I've been friendly to Arthur, but I've told him repeatedly that I just don't see him as more than a friend. I'm sorry if your feelings have gotten tangled up in this mess. Honestly, I think that you and Arthur would make great partners."

"So, then...he just really doesn't want _me_ anymore," Molly said, her eyes suddenly growing watery. She tried to blink away the tears, but instead they just slipped down her cheeks.

Hermione was unsure of what to do, not having being on the friendliest of terms with the older girl. Plus, she'd always been pants at these type of interactions. Stepping in, she gave Molly an awkward pat on the back. "I don't think that's true. He always has a nice compliment for you. I just think that he might have lost his way a little bit…" she offered, hoping that was the truth. If Molly and Arthur didn't end up with one another, that meant no Weasley family, and Hermione wasn't sure she could stomach that. Perhaps she had let Arthur's interest in her fester for too long.

"Oh, what's there to like about me?" Molly groaned, feeling rather sorry for herself in the moment. "You're so _smart_ and pretty and determined and you have plans for the future. I'm not like that. I just wanted to get married and raise a family. I don't have any _plans _for after school."

The brunette laughed at that. "Don't worry, Molly. I don't have things nearly as planned out as you think I do. I'm not even sure what I will do over the summer, let alone after school. My future is incredibly uncertain," she tried to explain, reminding herself once again that her time in the past was very fluid. "Arthur certainly thinks you are pretty and he _loves_ your cooking. I could see him coming to his senses any day now, and you two getting married and living in a little cottage with your seven children."

"Seven?" Molly asked, suddenly snapped out of her tears. A half-smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Merlin's _beard_ that would be a lot to handle. Do you really think I've still got a shot at him?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded, giving the woman another squeeze. "Just be yourself, and I am sure that Arthur will come to his senses soon enough."

With that uncomfortable situation discussed, Molly's tears dried up quickly, and the two witches were left in an uncomfortable silence, neither one wanting to acknowledge what had just transpired between them. Perhaps determined to remind Hermione that they were _not_ friends, Molly sniffed in her direction. "I still think that you are out of your mind for being with Lestrange," she warned the younger girl. "You have to realize what you are to his family - nearly less than dirt. No amount of snogging is going to change that."

Hermione frowned, reminded of that elephant in the room between her and Rodolphus - between her future and present. "Thanks for the warning, Molly," she groused, before walking past the girl towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, determined to get up to her bed and to sleep for hours. Maybe she'd even beg off classes tomorrow, feigning sickness. She didn't want to deal with any of that messiness now.

Still, it couldn't be avoided forever. Perhaps a discussion with Fawn would help her put things into perspective. Afterall, she was a pureblood herself and likely would be open and honest. Or maybe she needed to press Headmaster Dumbledore again, to figure out where they were in the process of getting her back to her correct time.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Also, huge thank you for the patience - sorry this chapter was delayed...I'm in the process of moving and my life has just been super hectic lately. Hopefully things will be more settled by May. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fifteen and be on the lookout for chapter sixteen soon!

* * *

March 1968

Hermione figured out fairly quickly that Dumbledore was trying to avoid her. Since she had tried to sit down with him again, he seemed to be traveling out of Hogwarts a fair amount. But, this Dumbledore did not know the kind of witch Hermione Granger was, not really anyway. He didn't know how persistent and stubborn she could be once she had set her mind to something. She would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

And she wanted to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore, dammit!

Eventually, Hermione decided to simply bypass requesting the meeting with the Headmaster. Instead, she just showed up to his office practically every evening, arguing with the gargoyle to give her entrance. On the fourth day, the gargoyle finally relented, jumping aside so she could run up the spiral staircase and talk to that slippery man.

She did not have the patience for greetings when she finally got in front of him. His auburn hair was quickly fading into a silvery blond, reminding her more of the man she knew in her own time. "You've been avoiding me, Headmaster," she said with a frown. "I believe that I am owed an explanation."

"I'm afraid that you are _simply_ mistaken, Miss Granger. I've merely been busy. I'm sorry that our schedules have not lined up until now," he said with that serene, unflappable quality he always seemed to have, even though Hermione was practically positive that he was lying through his teeth.

"The school year is nearly over and we haven't made any progress on sending me back to the correct time," Hermione said, slipping into the chair opposite the older man once he had offered her tea. "What's the status report on sending me back?"

"I thought that you've been settling in to the school year, well," Dumbledore said with a frown. "That you were enjoying yourself and letting the adults handle it."

Hermione bristled at the insinuation that she was not adult enough to be party to the discussion. "Of course I am settling in well, but that doesn't meant that I am not still interested in what my status is," she answered crossly. "Should I just..._give up hope_ on ever returning? Because it seems as if I am the only person who has any real consequences of this. I have no OWL scores, I have no family here. I have no means of money while I am at school. I have nowhere to go," she ticked off all the concerns that she had on her fingers.

"Of course, we don't want you to give up hope, MIss Granger," he said, his eyes softening a fraction when he realized how much she'd been worrying. "Don't fear that Hogwarts and the Ministry will arrange for your well being and care when you are a student. You will have somewhere to go and you will have money to take care of the necessities."

Hermione felt her shoulders hang heavy. Even though it was nice to know that he was looking after her, it didn't exactly assuage all of her fears, the unspoken ones about making irreparable changes. She'd promised not to give him any details when she'd first shown up, but the longer she was in the past, the more inevitable it all seemed like her presence was _changing_ things. "Of course," she said, her eyes focusing on her fingers.

"The Weasleys have agreed to host you again this summer," he said softly.

That had Hermione's head snapping up in surprise. "This summer?" she stammered. "So that means that I won't be going back anytime soon."

"I am afraid not. We've run into some snags," Dumbledore said, without offering any kind of explanation of what sort of snag he might be talking about. "But I don't want you to worry about this. I just want you to continue you on like you have been. You've been making friends and having a good time, same as any other student."

"I-yes," Hermione agreed. "I _have_ been making friends, but you don't understand how _difficult_ it is," she continued, nibbling on her lower lip. "You see, I _know_ some of these people, and well, it makes it very difficult to interact with them, when I know what their futures are."

"I cannot possibly have any sort of advice to give you in this situation," he said sadly. "But it would only be my suggestion that you try to operate as if you did not have this advanced knowledge. Take them at face value, as difficult as it might seem."

She frowned, trying to read between the lines with him. "I take it...I take it this means you know about me and Rodolphus?" she cautioned.

"I daresay that there is very little that goes on in this castle that I am unaware of," he explained. "And personally, I think that Mr. Lestrange is a well-rounded, well liked young man, who has the unfortunate tendency to care more about Quidditch than his schooling."

Her frown deepened, hating the way that they were talking about something without just coming out and speaking about it plainly. "But his family…." she trailed off, knowing that everyone in this time seemed to know _exactly_ what kind of wizard Rodolphus's father was.

"Mr. Lestrange does not seem to particularly share his family's views. After all, he seems close with _you_, and that tells me all I need to know about him," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers together. "Just _try_ not to worry about it, Miss Granger. Have fun and enjoy young love. Might you have your heart broken? Of course, but I promise you that it is temporary."

It sounded as if Dumbledore spoke from experience, but it was clear that he wasn't going to add anything else to what he'd already said. Recognizing that this conversation was quickly becoming a dead end, Hermione knew there was no arguing with the Headmaster any longer. "Of course, sir," she said, before standing a smoothing her skirt. "Thank you for your time."

"You are welcome anytime, Miss Granger," he said, his eyes twinkling once again, perhaps just rubbing in that she knew his words were not nearly as true as he suggested.

After leaving the Headmaster's office, Hermione was feeling more dejected than ever. She wished she could just act like a normal teenager, but it was difficult. Still, she had to recognize that she wasn't going back anytime soon, and it would do no good to go moping around over the next couple of months. Harry and Ron wouldn't want that for her, would they? Well, Ron would probably want her to be miserable if she wasn't with her friends.

Wandering back towards the Common Room, she bumped into Arthur on the way, quite possibly the last person that she wanted to see when she was in this melancholy state.

"Hey!" he greeted her brightly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Mum wrote to me and said that you'll be staying with us again this summer. I've just been thinking about all the things we could do together. I never got to take you on a broom ride last summer and I know of this place that is just brilliant at sunset-" he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Knowing that this conversation was long overdue and she couldn't put it off any longer, she turned to face him. "Yes, I'm...I'm so grateful for your family's generosity in letting me stay with them," she started gently, looking him directly in the eyes. "But, I feel that I have to be clear that...that I won't be going on any romantic broom rides with you."

"What do you...what do you mean?" Arthur asked, his cheeks growing pink at the word romantic, but not denying that that was what he'd been thinking.

"What I mean, Arthur...what I've been trying to tell you these last few months is..." she bit her lower lip, knowing that it was going to be hard for him to hear, no matter how necessary it was. "I just don't see you that way. I'm not, I'm not interested in you as a romantic partner."

Arthur's face fell immediately, his eyes dropping to his shoes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Oh," he said simply.

"I'm really sorry, Arthur," she said, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze. "I'd still really love to be your friend. I like spending time with you, but, I just don't think...well, I know that we aren't right for one another."

"Of course," he said, his voice cracking a bit. "You said that before, but then, I hoped...maybe after Valentine's..."

"I'm afraid there's just no chance," Hermione said firmly, not wanting to get his hopes up at all. "But listen, Arthur...Molly...Molly really does like you a lot. Anyone with eyes can see it, and I understand that before I showed up, you seemed to like her a lot, too."

"Molly?" he asked.

"Yeah, Molly Prewett," Hermione said with a smile. "Red hair, makes you biscuits that you like the most, makes you laugh the hardest of anyone. And, she really likes you and I feel like the two of you were destined to end up together, until I showed up and got into the mix..."

A smile began to tug on the corner of Arthur's lips. "Yeah, Molly is...Molly is special," he said, a light quality to his voice. "But, don't you think that I've really screwed things up with her, now? How do I even know that she still wants me? Maybe she'd rather date Kieran instead."

"I don't think that you need to worry about that, Arthur," Hermione said, not wanting to give away everything Molly had shared about her. "But every girl likes to be told why the boy she likes thinks she is special. And maybe a present or two wouldn't hurt, either." She hoped that he would take the hint, knowing that Molly really wouldn't take too much convincing.

"I - thank you, Hermione," he said, his voice softening once more. "You really are a great friend, and, I'd love to return the favor sometime."

"What favor?" she asked, feeling a little confused.

"Helping me see what was right in front of my eyes the whole time," he said with a grin.

"Well, I don't think I need any help in that department as of right now," she answered, thinking that Arthur wouldn't be able to help in her particular case. After all, he didn't know all of the details. "But, I'll come to you if I ever need help. Promise."

Once their discussion was handled, Hermione was eager to get back into her dorm room. Her head was beginning to hurt from all the thinking that she'd done that day and all she wanted to do was lie down and talk about something inconsequential.

Luckily, It was only Lottie waiting for her when she got back. "Missed you at dinner," she said with a grin. "Was it a _boy _keeping you away from sustenance?" she asked with a light teasing tone.

Hermione chuckled at the thought. "I suppose _technically_," she said before adding further clarification. "I was meeting with Dumbledore to talk about my plans for the summer. The Weasleys have agreed to house me again, while the Ministry is still sorting out my situation."

Despite not knowing what Hermione's _situation_ was, Lottie gave her a frown of commiseration. "That's too bad. I'd figured they would have figured things out by now, but the Ministry has always been slow...especially recently," she said. "But, if you ever need to get away from the Weasleys for a little bit, I'm sure you could come visit me for a week or so. My parents would love to meet you, after all."

Thinking that it was a really nice offer, Hermione thought she might actually take the girl up on the offer. She doubted that Georgie would be much company.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I know you guys are eager for a little more Rodolphus in your life, so I am hoping that this will fulfill your need, and we get introduced to a new (?) face! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter sixteen and be on the lookout for chapter seventeen soon!

* * *

April 1968

By the time that April had come, Rodolphus seemed to have realized how imminent his NEWTs were. Despite knowing that he was headed for an indolent sort of lifestyle, resting on the tremendous amount of wealth that his family had, he knew that it would still be useful to walk away with _something_ to show for his seven years of schooling.

Having known Hermione for several months now, he'd quickly cottoned on to her love of the library and all things relating to knowledge, even if she was far more relaxed in this time than she had been in the nineties. She wondered if Rodolphus would have ever tolerated the Hermione Granger that she had been had he met her then, or if he would have only found her to be an annoying swot, like so many of her classmates.

He did not have any shame in admitting to his supposed girlfriend that he needed help studying, finding himself falling behind in his school work when he _also_ needed to be doing additional NEWTs recitation and Merlin forbid that he take a step back with his Quidditch practices! Hermione actually did not begrudge him the few hours a week out of his schedule to go flying around on a broom, knowing that it was something that he genuinely loved. Or at least she wouldn't if that meant she could get a few hours of concentrated study out of him when they did find time to meet.

This meant that much of their time together was relegated into the dusty tomb that was the Hogwarts library, especially once the weather started to get nicer. Hermione would have loved a jaunt around the grounds together, or perhaps a lazy Saturday secluded under one of the large trees overlooking the Black Lake, but she had convinced herself that Rodolphus doing well was worth so much more than an afternoon of relaxation. After all - who knew how he had done on his NEWTs last time around? Maybe a failure at his NEWTs had caused some kind of tension between him and his father that made him more susceptible to Voldemort the first time around.

Perhaps that was little more than wishful thinking, but Hermione wasn't going to give up on it. She wanted to help him reach his relatively modest goal of achieving five NEWTs. He was going for a rather standard set: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology and Magical History.

Hermione was impressed with the breadth and depth of his knowledge of Magical History. He consistently breezed through the facts and figures of multiple points in history. "Don't you ever think about doing something more with history?" she asked him. "You seem to enjoy it so much."

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't know that I _enjoy_ it. It was a big focus of my tutor growing up," he explained. "But it's not Quidditch."

Hermione snorted at him. "You don't have to pretend not to like school with me. I'm not going to think you are a square if you like History," she countered, knowing that it certainly didn't fit with his sporty persona. She could only imagine what Pucey would think if he saw the excited gleam in Rodolphus's blue eyes when he was discussing the Goblin and Warlock treaty of 1392. "Besides, I _know_ that you enjoy it. The way that you talk about it is _not_ rote memorization from a tutor."

"There are _parts_ of Magical History that I find fascinating," he admitted with a grimace on his face. "It's just that Binns makes it so unbearably boring, I don't want people to think that I enjoy the _class._"

"That's fair," Hermione agreed, finding that Binns' teaching style had not changed in the intervening decades. He was as dry as ever. "But, after school, you could do whatever you wanted. Maybe write a book and try to make it more interesting for _everyone_. All history doesn't have to be the same facts repeated over and over again. And you seem to have a grasp of the causes behind all of the big events, too. How everything pieces together."

The tiniest hint of pink flourished on Rodolphus's cheeks, clearly unused to being complimented on his academic abilities. "Yeah, maybe. I haven't really given much thought to what happens _after_ Hogwarts. I've still got to get through the NEWTs first," he said, signalling that he wasn't ready to keep talking about it.

Hermione didn't push the matter, knowing that he didn't really have to worry about securing a job after school. "Well, let's get back to it then," she smiled brightly, reshuffling the flash cards that she'd made for him. "What would be the best base for a blood poison?" she asked, staring at the answer at the back of the card.

"Hmm," he said, rubbing at his chin. "The blood of the poisoned?" he said cautiously.

She smirked. "I will give you that one, but you should sound more confident. You _knew_ the answer."

Rodolphus did not take her chiding sitting down. Instead, he pressed his hands to the gentle curve of her waist, pulling her towards him until their bodies were pressed together tightly. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, peppering kisses up the length of her jaw until he captured her lips in a needy kiss.

Laughing, she pulled back for a moment. "We should be studying, not kissing," she scolded.

"I'm sick of studying," he whinged. "And you have no idea _how_ distracting your lips are. They are practically begging to be kissed for the rest of the afternoon. Haven't I studied enough?"

"It's the biggest exam of your life, Rodolphus," she cautioned, even though his description of events sounded better than she could imagine. An hour sat next to him without being able to reach out and touch him was far too long for her to handle.

"Perhaps I can proposed a suitable compromise," he suggested, raising one of his eyebrows suggestively. "For every question that I get right, I get one kiss. It's positive reinforcement - I dare say it will help with my retention more than any amount of cramming ever could."

Hermione giggled at the suggestion, thinking that it did combine two things that she liked doing. It was a good way to kill two birds with one stone, but she almost couldn't believe the witch she was becoming in this time. What would Harry and Ron think if they knew she was trading snogs for right answers in the library? It was such a _normal_ teenage girl thing to do, she was almost a little bit happy that she'd been able to experience these sorts of things, even though she was so drastically out of place. "Deal. But don't get used to it, Lestrange," she cautioned, knowing that they weren't likely to get much done this way.

She quickly settled in for the questions, rewarding him with kisses that grew progressively more passionate as they went on. Before she knew it, she was pulled into his lap, nestled against his broad chest, his fingers tangled in her hair, holding her just how he wanted her. It felt wonderful to be so wrapped up completely in him, she could almost forget who she was for a moment and just _feel_.

The buzz of Rodolphus's wand against the table broke them out of their tangle. Rodolphus groaned, pressing his head against her shoulder. "Fuck Quidditch practice," he whispered for her, before helping her off of his lap, before smirking at her. "Never thought I'd say those words."

Hermione fully agreed with his assessment and found herself wishing that he wouldn't have to go off for practice, even if it was probably for the best. When she and Rodolphus came together, they got on a bit too well, their passions encouraging the others, until she rather felt like her body was consumed by a full inferno.

Shuffling her flashcards together, she handed them over to the older Slytherin, hoping that he would actually go through them a bit more before bed that night. Pressing one last kiss to his lips, she wished him a good night and watched him walk away with longing in her eyes.

Once he was gone, she was free to pull out her own work for the evening, hoping to revise her Charms essay that was due at the end of the week. Reading over the words she'd already written, she found one area that could do with one additional source. Knowing exactly which book to use, she went off to search the stacks for the author's work.

It took a little bit longer for Hermione to find it than she wanted, having realized that the Hogwarts Library had ungone several reorganizations over the decades. When she returned to her desk, she was dismayed to find someone sitting in her seat. Initially, she thought that it was Bellatrix come to darken her evening once again, but a second glance revealed that this witch had light brown hair rather than the midnight black Bellatrix possessed.

"Black," Hermione said tersely as she slid into her open seat, coming face to face with Andy Black. Said to be Sirius's favorite cousin, Hermione had not seen much of the younger girl's personality to make her stand out as special. Of course, Hermione knew that she would eventually marry Ted Tonks and have Nymphadora for a daughter, whilst in Hogwarts she was still just a Slytherin with an air of superiority that everyone in the Black family seemed to share.

"So you're Hermione Granger," Andromeda answered, cocking her head to one side, making no secret that she examining Hermione. "I don't know what you've _done_ to deserve it, but Bella rather thinks that you're her savior."

Frowning, Hermione shook her head emphatically. "I highly doubt _that_. I don't know what your sister wants with me, let alone why she continues to talk to me."

"Isn't it obvious?" Andromeda asked with a smirk. "She wants you to date her fiance, Rodolphus. And from what I've seen tonight, it seems that you are _well up_ for the task."

Hermione blushed furiously, wondering just how much Andromeda had seen of her and Rodolphus together. Still, it didn't really help explain what Bellatrix was up to. "I don't see _why_ Bellatrix would want that, though," she insisted, wishing that the middle Black sister would give her more information.

Andromeda's face hardened. "Whatever the reason is, I just feel like it's my duty to warn you that my sister is up to something. She might seem as sweet as honey right now, but as soon as you cross her - as soon as you cease to be useful to her, she will cut you deeper than the sharpest knife."

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes, thinking that the whole lot of the Black family had such a flair for the dramatic, to the point that it was nearly excessive. "Of course I've realized your sister isn't _really_ my friend. I'm not stupid."

"Then prove it," Andromeda said, standing from the table and smoothing her skirt. "And don't say that I didn't warn you." She turned to walk away, but stopped when she got only one step away. She turned back to look at Hermione one last time. "Oh, and Granger," she added. "I care about my little sister Narcissa more than anyone. If she were to end up not getting exactly what she wanted, _I _would have a problem with that."

Reeling from the two warnings that Andy Black gave her, Hermione silently fumed at her table for a while. Just who did she think she was, trying to tell Hermione what to think. And the warning about Narcissa, honestly! Surely Andromeda knew that this whole situation with Rodolphus and Bellatrix started because _she_ was in love with a muggleborn, didn't she? Hermione hardly felt like she could be blamed for something that really was out of her control. She wasn't wholly responsible for the happiness of the Black family.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! And for your patience - things have been in flux lately, but you guys have just been so great about the longer periods between chapters. I am really hoping to find my regular update schedule again soon :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter seventeen and be on the lookout for chapter eighteen soon!

* * *

April 1968

After much discussion, it was Rodolphus who finally convinced Hermione to do a little bit of studying outside. Hermione was skeptical that he would be able to focus out in the fantastic weather, but knew that she could do with a bit of fresh air herself. Rodolphus had grown more serious about his revision as the weeks had gone by, perhaps impressed with the small improvements that he was making in progress.

Hermione was quickly running out of things to do on the other hand. The curriculum was just not as challenging here in the late 60s as what she was used to in her correct time and she didn't have her swotty reputation to fall back on to ask her professors for additional work for extra credit. In some ways, it was freeing to not be so focused on getting good marks, but on the other hand it left her with copious amounts of time to fill now that she'd finished all the assignments on her class syllabi through the end of term.

Tucked underneath a tree next to the Black Lake, Hermione was happy to spend her afternoon nestled underneath Rodolphus's arm, her head leaning back against his chest, his long fingers working their way through her wild hair. She was fascinated by the way his long legs stretched out in front of him and it was all she could do to stop herself from running her foot up against the firm muscle of his thigh. They hadn't done much more than kiss, but that certainly didn't _stop_ Hermione from wanting more with him.

Needing to focus on something other than the way that he looked, she prodded about an issue that was rapidly approaching in her mind - their impending separation. "Have you thought any more about what you might do after school?" Hermione prodded, biting her lower lip and hoping that Rodolphus didn't think that she was nagging him.

Rodolphus let out a sigh, his fingers stilling their constant motion. "I wish I didn't have to do anything," he said finally. "I wish I didn't have to think about leaving Hogwarts at all. The real world seems too _serious_. I'm not done having fun."

Hermione turned in his arms and looked up at him, only to see that he was completely pouting. She would have expected so much more from the Slytherin. "Oh, come on Rodolphus, doesn't it sound wonderful? The _freedom_ to finally do whatever you want to, no one telling you what to do," she said, hoping to set a nicer picture for him.

He scowled. "Yeah, well, I forget that you don't know my father," he answered, his brows drawing together in frustration. "I've been useless to him while I was at Hogwarts, but now he is going to have all sorts of things for me to do for the good of the _family_. For instance, this summer, he's lined up a job for me clerking with one of his friends at the Wizengamot. Utterly boring most of the time, and more research than I've done the whole time I was at school, I'm sure."

She frowned, thinking that Rodolphus's father suddenly having an interest in his son's future and choices did pose some issues for him. Maybe this was how he got wrapped up with Voldemort the first time around. "Well, it sounds like it will be useful experience...you'll get insight on how the Ministry really works," she said, trying to make the experience sound a little more palatable to the grumpy man.

"I guess, if you had an interest in politics," Rodolphus said, still sounding very down about his prospects. "But, it's no secret how the Ministry works - you just need the right name, and a bit of gold if you don't have that."

Hermione gasped at the idea of such corruption in the Ministry, though, she couldn't say that she was too surprised.

"Oh, you are so naive sometimes," he said affectionately, pulling her closer to him and pressing a kiss to the top of her head as though she were some kind of pet. "I'm sure things would be better if it didn't work there, but I don't know how to change it. Except for tearing the whole thing down and starting over again."

Hermione was silent for a minute, listening to the wind on the leaves of the trees, soothing. "At least you won't be far away for the summer," she said finally. "I know that _this_ between us has to end eventually, but maybe I could still see you sometime this summer."

"What, you already planning on finding yourself a new boyfriend next term, Granger?" he teased, though Hermione could undoubtedly hear the hint of hurt in his voice. Was he really so worried about her having a relationship with someone that wasn't him?

"No, I don't have one _lined up_ or anything," she said, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. She liked Rodolphus far more than she should have allowed herself to, but her feelings were very real and very able to get hurt. "But, as you say, your father is going to...take a more active interest in your life and I doubt that he is going to want to hear that you've been hanging around with a _mudblood_ when you are supposed to be marrying Bellatrix."

The word mudblood tasted like poison in her mouth, but Rodolphus made no move to scold her for using the word. Perhaps he knew that is exactly what his father would think of her. "I don't think that he'll be too interested in my love life," Rodolphus said with a smirk on his lips. "Especially since Bellatrix has another year of school. The way I see it, I will have at least another year before he starts nagging me about the betrothal. That's plenty of time for things to change."

Hermione's stomach roiled in protest at the thought. She wasn't sure what this meant…did he just mean to keep dating her for another year until Bellatrix graduated and then dump her to get married to the other witch...always going what his daddy told him? Or was he just putting off some confrontation that he knew was brewing? What would happen to her? Would her feelings for him only grow deeper and leave her move hurt when she was inevitably dropped like a hot potato?

Sighing, she decided that was far too many what ifs to be thinking over right now. Maybe she would stop seeing him after the summer. Maybe her attraction to him would wane. But if she was honest to herself, she wasn't ready to give him up just yet. "So you aren't trying to get rid of me just yet, then?" Hermione pressed.

"Get rid of you, witch?" he asked with a grin. "It will be you who wants to get rid of me."

Somehow, she doubted that. "Well, then I might be able to pull you away from clerking and the Wizengamot a couple of times this summer. I could meet you in Diagon Alley for dinner or something?" she asked, pressing her hand against his chest, feeling his heart beating proudly against his ribs.

Rodolphus grabbed her hand in his own, threading his fingers through hers. "That depends..." he trailed off. "Do you really think that the _Weasleys_ are just going to let you do out with a big bad _Lestrange_? After all that tripe that Arthur fills your head up about me."

That was a little bit of an issue, she supposed. "First of all, Cedrella is _very_ indulgent of me. I can't say that she wouldn't let her _Bunny_ do whatever she wanted," Hermione said with a grin on her face. "But further, I am not a prisoner of the Weasleys. I am free to do whatever I want as an of age witch."

He looked at her with those soft blue eyes showing her that he really was not believing what she was saying. "_Or_...I could just tell them I am visiting Fawn or Elna or Lottie. I am sure that any of those three would be perfectly acceptable playdates for a young impressionable witch." Hermione did not like the some of the ideas about how a young lady was meant to comport herself in this time period and longed for the greater freedoms she had in her correct time. But, just because that was the way she was _meant_ to do things did not mean that that was the way she was actually going to behave.

"Sneaking out, Granger?" he teased, pulling her closer. "I always took you for a bit of a rule follower."

Hermione scrunched up her nose, thinking of all the times that she had broken the rules to suit her needs or to help Harry Potter accomplish his goals. For Merlin's sake, she had lead Umbridge into a wild pack of centaurs _knowing_ exactly what was going to happen to her and not caring one iota. "Only the rules that suit me," she said primly. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do. I've been sneaking out since I was a first year."

"A first year?" he asked, one fine eyebrow raised in suspicion. "But you didn't go here as a first year...does this have something to do with your secret past life that you won't tell anyone about? Did you really go to Beauxbatons? Or Durmstrang?"

The smile fell from her face at his gentle questioning. "Please - me at Durmstrang? They wouldn't take a muggleborn student in a million years," she whined, knowing the school's reputation for dark magic. She had Viktor had spent a lot of time talking about his school and its connections to Grindelwald, so she knew that they wouldn't take a muggleborn student for at _least_ another decade.

"So Beauxbatons then?" he said, not sensing the way that her walls were coming back up. "I confess I might like to see you in one of their uniforms. And I hear they have veela there - is that true?"

"I didn't go to Beauxbatons either," she answered tersely, looking down at her lap. "And I understand that they don't have any full blood veelas there, just a lot of girls with charming smiles and good looks. Not that it takes much to charm a wizard, I suppose."

"Hmm, if you didn't go to Durmstrang and you didn't go to Beauxbatons, I'll confess, I'm stumped," he said turning to look at her better. "Where did you go to school before this? You are obviously plenty smart."

Hermione felt on edge, completely unprepared to have this conversation with anyone let along with Rodolphus. "I'm not ready to talk about this," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning away from him a bit. "Can we just talk about something else?"

"Come on, don't you trust me?" he asked. "I don't see what the big deal is. Why can't you just tell me a little bit about your life before school?"

She thought that Rodolphus was just about the worst person she could tell the truth to, if she was honest with herself, but she wasn't sure how to tell him that. "Look, I'm just not ready to talk about my past with _anyone_ yet. It brings up too many painful memories."

"When _will_ you be ready to tell me about it?" he countered. "I've been trying to be understanding, but it's been months now, Hermione."

Annoyed with him, Hermione stood up from under the tree and smoothed out her skirt, knowing that she needed to leave before they got into a larger fight. "I don't know? Maybe when you feel comfortable telling your father about me?" she pressed, knowing that it was asking too much. She was fairly positive that Rodolphus would never want to tell his father about her, but if it got him to drop his questions about her past, then it did the job. "Listen, I promised Fawn I would hang out with her tonight. See you tomorrow?" she asked.

Rodolphus reluctantly agreed.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Hermione and Rodolphus are definitely going through a tumultuous time and Hermione I think is quickly realizing that she doesn't know everything, and she doesn't know what the right choice is all the time, either. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eighteen and be on the lookout for chapter nineteen soon!

* * *

**May 1968**

Any of the lingering tension between Hermione and Rodolphus was essentially ignored the next time that they met one another. It was abundantly clear that their weeks together at Hogwarts were coming to an end, and neither one of them had time for the petty back and forth when the days were dwindling. And although Hermione knew that the issues between them - namely Rodolphus's family and her time traveling - were not going away anytime soon, there was no need to linger on them when nothing was going to get solved _now_.

The Quidditch season was mercifully over, with Slytherin winning the Cup after a surprise upset over Ravenclaw, snatching the snitch and victory right out from under the noses of the Eagles. Rodolphus had invited Hermione to the celebration back at the Slytherin Common Room, but Hermione declined, thinking that it would practically be suicide to walk into the party being that she was a muggleborn and a Gryffindor. Plus, she still didn't want her business _advertised_ to all the rest of the Slytherins. Lucius Malfoy was an annoying little shite who would absolutely tattle on Rodolphus first chance he got, and after the frosty reception that she'd gotten from Andromeda, Hermione didn't want to do anything to jeopardize Narcissa's future marriage to the Malfoy heir, no matter how detestable she found them.

Rodolphus teased her for losing all her Gryffindor courage in the face of a few snakes, but she'd just laughed it off. Pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, she instructed him to enjoy himself on his own with his teammates. Hermione promised that they could celebrate on their own some other time and begged off in favor of spending a night with Fawn and Elna. Lottie, of course, had to go and console her Ravenclaw beau who was utterly heartbroken at having lost his last match of his Hogwarts career.

The other girls in her year were excitedly sharing plans of what they were being to do that summer, sharing a packet of pepper imps between them when Hermione returned to their room. Grabbing her pillow from her bed, Hermione joined the pair of them on the floor excited to talk about something that wasn't studying for a change.

Fawn was traveling to Switzerland with her aunt for a portion of the summer, and promised to bring them both back some chocolate.

"You'll have to sample some of the local _wizards_, too," Elna teased, before flopping onto her back. "I bet the Swiss are so handsome and they can speak to you in _all sorts_ of languages. Which is more attractive - French or Italian?"

"I think that both can be pretty sexy," Hermione said with a mischievous grin. "They could be reciting a recipe for a Sunday roast, but if you don't understand a lick of it, it all just sounds wonderful when it's whispered in your ear."

"Hermione! You naughty witch!" Elna said with a gasp and a giggle, giving Hermione a playful shove on her shoulder. "And just how many boys have you had whispering in your ear?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight at the intrigue Hermione had planted.

She flushed, thinking of the times just a summer ago - or was it two now? - that Viktor had lapsed into his raspy Bulgarian and the way that it had made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck, but in the most _delicious _way. Bulgarian was generally not the nicest sounding language, but that afternoon, tucked away inside to avoid the rain, Hermione could have listened to him talk forever. It seemed so far away now, but still remained a treasured memory. "Not as many as _you_ are imagining, surely," she said with a secret smile lingering on her lips.

"Well, I don't think there will be any time for that _sort_ of thing this summer," Fawn said, a flaming blush of her own on her cheeks. "I'll be helping my aunt and she isn't going to want me wandering around town, looking for a boy to snog."

"Oh live a little," Elna said, rolling her eyes at what she must have thought was prudish behavior. It was no secret that Fawn did not have the same number of boyfriends that Elna and Lottie had, and in an odd way, it reminded Hermione a bit of her time with Lavender and Parvati. She hoped that Fawn wasn't too self-conscious about it. "Hermione, does _Rodolphus_ speak French? I understand that his family have an estate in France, still."

Hermione didn't try to hide the smile that grew on her face when she thought of Rodolphus. There was no chance that she would have been able to keep the relationship secret from the ever perceptive girls that she ate every meal with, but she was glad that they did not seem to gossip about it, recognizing her desire to keep things on the down low. "I don't know," she answered honestly, not having any knowledge about the French estate either. "I will have to ask him next time I see him."

"I bet he does," Elna said with a dreamy sigh. "He looks like the kind of person who would learn, just because he knows that it makes witches swoon. Oh, I swear, Hermione you have the _best_ luck of anyone I know, snatching him up."

"Oh, leave our Hermione alone," Fawn scolded. "You know that she did her absolute best to keep her distance from him, but once he had his sights set on her he couldn't let her go."

"Still, the bravery of her," Elna said, flopping back amongst her pile of pillows with a loft sigh. "I can't imagine being with him, knowing that Bellatrix was just lurking around the corner at every turn. Though, I bet you could take her, Hermione."

Hermione was oddly proud of Elna's positivity that she best Bellatrix in a fight. She wasn't entirely sure if she believed that herself, and if she was honest, Bellatrix scared her. She seemed to want what she wanted and she _also_ seemed willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted, no matter the price. It was definitely a dangerous combination to be dealing with.

"Why should Hermione have to fight Bellatrix? It seems clear to me that all three of them at happier with the way things are now. It's not as if Bellatrix is heartbroken over Rodolphus," Fawn said smartly. "Don't let her worry you, Hermione. I fully support your relationship."

"Thank you, Fawn," Hermione said, feeling genuinely touched, even if Fawn had said as much previously. It was nice to have at least one person rooting for her.

"Of course they all seem happier now, but Bellatrix's father is involved, and you know that he isn't going to stand for a situation where his daughter looks like the slighted party," Elna answered matter-of-factly. "I'm just _saying_, Hermione, that you should enjoy Rodolphus now, while you can."

Hermione did not enjoy the way that the conversation was going, especially because she knew it was just reminding her of the inevitable - that she and Rodolphus could not possibly last. "Can't we talk about something else?" she nearly begged, looking to Fawn for support. "Like the Squib Rebellion, maybe?"

"The Squib Reb-" Elna groaned before being cut off by Fawn.

"I agree, something else to talk about would be refreshing. The Squib Rebellion is incredibly important right now," she said diplomatically. "It's such an unfortunate turn of events, but I am afraid that there isn't a happy ending for anyone right now, especially considering the Squibs being forced to resort to muggle means to cause mayhem. They aren't making themselves seem any more ready for societal integration by doing that."

Hermione was a bit shocked to hear that Fawn held that kind of a belief. "What other choice do they have?" she asked back, knowing that the Squibs were working with what little they could. "They have no magic."

"Don't get me wrong, I think it's horrible the way that they are treated, but the fact that they have no magic makes them incompatible to our society. Pretending like everything is okay isn't going to make them suddenly gain the ability to cast a spell," Fawn argued, getting a bit heated with her argument, catching Hermione a bite off-guard. "And the Ministry is handling the whole situation utterly poorly."

The time traveler had not expected _this_ kind of reaction from a Gryffindor, but Fawn was still a pureblood, so she could see that her family might have these kind of thoughts, seeing squibs or really anyone who wasn't a pureblood as an outsider. It gave her pause that maybe her steadfastness was misplaced.

Before the discussion could get out of hand, Lottie was breezing back in the room, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hate to break up what I am sure was an _illuminating_ discussion," she said, unable to hide the grin from her face. "But Hermione has a very eager, very Slytherin visitor waiting outside of the portrait, who refuses to leave until he can speak to her."

Somewhere between embarrassed and pleased, Hermione couldn't believe that Rodolphus would come camp out in front of her dorm, demanding to see her. "Did anyone else see him?" she asked, standing and smoothing her hair. "I hope he isn't making a bit scene," she said, worrying her bottom lip.

Lottie rolled her eyes at Hermione, smirking. "Oh, stop worrying so much about appearances _Granger_, and go and snog your beau. It's almost the end of the year," she encouraged, pushing Hermione towards the door.

Hermione made the way down to the Common Room in record time, and quickly made her way past the portrait, glad to see that it was late enough that no one was lingering around. Rodolphus was leaning against the wall opposite the entrance to Gryffindor, his eyes lighting up when he saw that it was her walking through the portrait.

Rodolphus made quick work of the space between them, grabbing her arm and pulling her a bit further down the hallway where things were more secluded. Pressing her against the stone of the corridor, he dipped his head and pressed kisses up the side of her neck.

"Rodolphus," she giggled, enjoying the way that he made her feel, her fingers combing through his soft hair. "What are you doing here?" she asked, needing to know if there was a greater purpose to his visit. A spicy smell clung to the fabric of his shirt, indicative of the firewhiskey he must have been consuming at the celebration.

"Couldn't go to sleep without giving you a kiss goodnight," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers to stare deep into her eyes, giving her a sappy grin. He was almost certainly a bit tipsy from the alcohol. His fingers slid under the hem of her shirt, splaying against the hot skin of her stomach, itching to creep higher. Dipping down, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, immediately deepening it, his tongue slipping against her, making Hermione clench her legs together for want of more.

Knowing that things were liable to get out of hand quickly, Hermione reluctantly broke the kiss after a few beats. "I'm glad you got to say goodnight in person then," she answered, unwilling to let go of him so soon. "I will certainly be able to sleep better for it."

His fingers reached up to play with a single curl of hair, seemingly enthralled by the feel of it. "I don't know how I ended up liking you so much," he said in a brief moment of candor. "At first you were just an intriguing challenge, a stranger appearing out of nowhere intent on keeping me as far away as possible, but now...now I don't know what I'll do without seeing you every day. Hermione," he whispered reverently, before pressing one final lingering kiss to her lips.

She felt her heart beating wildly out of control, completely unprepared for his confession. It seemed that there was much more to Rodolphus Lestrange than she ever could have imagined.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am a bit nervous for this chapter, so I will be curious to hear what you think of it. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nineteen and be on the lookout for chapter twenty soon!

* * *

**June 1968**

Exams creeped forward with the kind of surety that they did every year, but for once, Hermione did not find herself looking forward to them. Instead of being thrilled to confirm that she had gone above and beyond in her studies the year prior, Hermione could only see them as a somewhat concrete marker that her relationship with Rodolphus would be dwindling to a close.

Sixth year exams were held prior to the NEWTs and the OWLS, with the other classes end of year exams, and everyone was too stressed to spend much time socializing. Hermione decided that she wanted to make the best possible life here for herself, especially considering she would be left in this time at least for the length of the summer. On the off chance that Dumbledore was not able to sort things out for her with the aid of the Ministry, Hermione was not going to short changed herself by pretending to be less intelligent than she really was.

Her visits with Rodolphus were few and far between, seeing as she'd barely had time to even talk to her own roommates, let alone find time to sneak away with the seventh year Slytherin. Then, once her exams were completed, it was time for Rodolphus to take his NEWTs and Hermione found him to be unreachable during that time. Not that she blamed him. He obviously had a lot to focus on, but she was confident that he had done his best with his recitation, so she was hopeful that he would have a good exam.

Before she even realized it, her sixth year at Hogwarts had come to a close and she found herself desperately trying to pack up her trunk for the trip back on the Hogwarts Express. It was hard to remember that it would not be her two parents waiting to collect her at Kings Cross station, but instead Cedrella Weasley. It hurt, but she knew that it was something she would have to face.

What hurt even more, she was embarrassed to admit, was that Rodolphus had not made time to come and wish her goodbye for the summer, to sneak one last snog in, and at least promise that he would keep in touch, even if he didn't end up following through. There would be no more study sessions peppered with kisses in the library, or lazy afternoons by the Black Lake now that Rodolphus would be leaving school for good.

Her stomach sunk when she remembered their meeting just two weeks prior, after the Quidditch cup game and when he'd confessed how much he would miss her. She still remembered the taste of firewhiskey on his lips and the way that he'd touched her, pressing her to want him much more than she ever had. What if that had been his way of saying goodbye? Of trying to sever the ties between them? Had he been trying to make one last memory for her to linger on? To give her that much?

Knowing that there was still a chance that she might see him on the train, she skipped down towards Hogsmeade with the stream of other students, promising Elna, Lottie and Fawn that she would secure an empty compartment for them on the train.

There were not many people on board yet, so she was able to find one of the nicer carriages to leave her trunk in, before leaving to wander up and down the halls. It felt a little embarrassing to admit that she was looking for Rodolphus, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to let him go so easily. She smiled a little at the change in her attitude, thinking of the way that she had done her best to avoid him at the beginning of the school year.

Just as she was about to make it to the end of the train, thinking that she might as well give up, she spied Rodolphus inside a compartment, laughing away with Flint and Pucey. The three boys looked to be having an amazing time with one another, probably all thrilled to be done with their NEWTs after seven years of preparation.

Hermione stood there, biting her lip and wondering if she should knock on the door. Had Rodolphus told his friends anything about her, she wondered? Just as she was about to chicken out, she watched as Rodolphus's eyes flickered to her form, lingering on her for a moment, before returning to his conversation, making no effort to get up and speak with her. Feeling a bit crushed, Hermione turned at headed back towards her compartment, determined not to cry on the train.

Wanting nothing more than to hide away in her compartment for a few minutes to herself, Hermione practically wrenched the sliding door open in her haste to get inside, and she didn't notice the other occupant of the compartment until she'd sat down.

"Hello, Hermione," Bellatrix said with a grin, looking up from inspecting her finger nails in disdain.

Too upset to worry about offending the other witch, Hermione made a small noise of frustration, too annoyed to worry about walking on eggshells around the volatile witch. "What do you want, Bellatrix?" she demanded, sitting down in the seat across from her.

"Can't I just want to say goodbye to my friend for the summer?" Bellatrix asked in a mocking voice, teasing her.

"We aren't friends," Hermione said with a bit more vitriol than necessary, but wanting to make it clear to her for once.

Bellatrix gave her a hurt look. "Oh, don't be like that," she sneered. "I just wanted to check on you, because, well, I thought that we had all _decided_ that you and Rodolphus were going to go for each other and have a wonderful relationship, making each other very happy, but it seems to me that the two of you are still sneaking around for snogs in corridors and broom closets when you should be shouting from the rooftops that you will accept no other. So...what gives?"

The Slytherin girl had picked just about the worst possible time to have this conversation with Hermione, who was feeling rather like she'd just had her heart crushed by the other witch's fiance. "I think you might have the wrong impression of what's going on between me and Rodolphus, Bellatrix," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice as devoid of emotion as possible, not wanting to do something embarrassing like break down and cry in front of Bellatrix Black! "Perhaps Rodolphus just saw me as one last fling before doing what your families both want - marrying _you_."

"Oh, nonsense," Bellatrix said, completely dismissing Hermione's words out of hand. "Anyone with _eyes_ can see how Rodolphus obviously feels about you." Her dark, calculating eyes run up and down the length of Hermione's seated form once or twice while she thought about her next words. "You'll just have to try harder, this summer."

An involuntary whine left Hermione's throat at the suggestion of summer. "I don't know if he will have time for me, Bellatrix," she insisted, not seeing any point in getting her hopes up.

"Of course you will. Rodolphus won't be able to keep away, not now that he can have you all to himself, away from the prying eyes of professors," Bellatrix countered, smirking at the way Hermione squirmed in her seat. "But you mustn't give in too easily, Hermione. You are a prize to be won, and you shouldn't let Rodolphus hide you away to grow dusty on a shelf. You should insist that he take you out and show you off. You've certainly got the looks to make a splash in society."

"He would never do that," Hermione insisted feeling a hard lump grow in her throat while she tried not to cry, remembering their conversation about his father. "He wouldn't want to disappoint his father."

Bellatrix did not seem to realize how much the conversation was upsetting Hermione and stood up happily. "_I _have faith in you, Hermione," she said with one last smirk. "By the end of summer, you will have Rodolphus eating out of your palm, and even Edmund Lestrange won't be able to convince him to give you up. See you next term," she bid Hermione, before leaving her alone once again.

She was barely able to compose herself before her solitude was broken by her roommates spilling in. If they noticed that Hermione seemed a bit more down than usual, they did not comment on it, perhaps too excited with their own plans to ask about why a poor orphan girl was sad to be returning to someone who was decidedly not her family.

When they arrived at the station, she gave each of the three witches tight, warm hugs with the promise to write one another over the summer. Grabbing her trunk, she found Georgie and Arthur easily enough, and made her way to the platform with them, where Cedrella was waiting.

Arthur was pulled off to one side, giving his girlfriend, Molly Prewett a very intense kiss that had Hermione blushing to the roots of her hair. Even though she was glad that they were together, finally, she did not need to see evidence of their relationship, especially when she remembered them as their older counterparts.

Cedrella seemed to be thoroughly disappointed with her son's behavior as well, huffing and tapping her foot while she waited for them to finish their goodbyes. Rolling her eyes, she turned to look at Hermione, noticing her sad demeanor immediately. "Bunny, what's wrong?" she asked, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders, giving her a little side hug. "You look like you could just burst into tears at any moment."

Hermione swallowed, blinking back the tears that were prickling at the back of her eyes again. "It's nothing..." Hermione said, trailing off with a frown. "Just the realization that it's nearly been a whole year since..."

She did not need to add any more and let Cedrella's mind fill in the blanks on her tragic past. "Well, if you ever need to talk about it, Bunny, you know that I am here for you," she promised, before turning her attention to Georgie to interrogate him about how his OWLs had gone.

Feeling as much as an outsider as she had the whole time that she had been living in the past, Hermione let her eyes wander over the crowd to see her classmates reuniting with family. The three Black sisters had been collected by a stern looking blond man, who alternated between scowling at Bellatrix and smiling indulgently at the ever perfect princess Narcissa. Andromeda stood to the side, largely forgotten and ignored as she made bedroom eyes at Ted Tonks across the way, who was chattering away to his smiling parents.

Then, unwillingly, she found Rodolphus, grinning down at Rabastan, who had survived his first year at Hogwarts, stopping to ruffle his hair every now and again, an action that the younger boy found thoroughly objectionable. Rabastan slipped out from under his older brother's shoulder, running over to a handsome man, who could be none other than their father - Edmund, as Bellatrix had called him.

It was painful to see the way that he dismissed Rabastan's eager recounting of his year, listening with disinterest. Instead, his eyes fell to Rodolphus instead, giving him a pleased look, welcoming him now that he would be useful. Hermione felt a stab of pain in her heart when she realized that this was the man, this was the family, that had been chosen in favor of her.

Perhaps feeling her eyes on him, Rodolphus turned at saw her, his blue eyes once again lingering on her, filled with a promise that Hermione wasn't sure he could keep.

"Ready to go, Bunny?" Cedrella asked with an overdone cheerful voice, perhaps trying to inject some happiness into Hermione's summer. "We better get back...I've had the house elves organize quite the feast for the return of you three, and I am sure that Septimus is just dying to know how your exams went."

Rodolphus was still watching her when they apparated away.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Rodolphus is definitely hot and cold right now, but he's definitely working through some stuff right now. I am still working on reviewer responses from last chapter, but hopefully get to it today! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty and be on the lookout for twenty-one soon!

* * *

June 1968

The owls started a week after they were back from school. Hermione was just getting settled into life with three boys once again, enjoying messy breakfasts with Will, Arthur and George. Will typically left early to go to his job, and Arthur always snuck off around mid morning to visit Molly, so that mostly left Hermione and George alone to the whims of Cedrella.

George wasn't a terrible companion. He mostly spent his summer indoors, catching up on reading for fun. Apparently, he had quite the taste for thriller novels and limited himself during the school year keep himself focused on his academics. He had _quite_ the healthy pile of books that had accumulated.

This left Hermione with a startling amount of free time on her hands, and she found herself not enjoying it as much as she would have in the past. Cedrella had already dragged her along to two teas and a shopping trip seeing as Hermione had "nothing else to do" in the words of her foster mother. It wasn't that she didn't like spending time with Cedrella, just that it wasn't her ideal way to spend the summer.

So, the first day that she got an owl delivered to the Weasley home over breakfast, she had jumped for joy, thinking that it was from one of her girlfriends with a promise of a temporary freedom from the Weasleys. To see that it was actually from _Rodolphus_, a man who couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye to her in person, had her feeling annoyed and upset.

She ignored the first letter.

But then a second came, and then a third, and fourth, until he had sent her one every day and showed no signs of stopping. Cedrella was far too nosy not to say anything when an unknown owl dropped off a letter over one of their family breakfasts. "I must say, Bunny, you have grown _exceptionally_ popular over the last few months," she said with a proud sort of tone. "Who has been writing to you so much?"

Hermione was flustered, unsure of what she should say, reading over Rodolphus's note asking her to please come meet him for lunch in one of the smaller restaurants in Diagon Alley.

Arthur must have noticed her inability to formulate a good enough lie, likely knowing _exactly_ who it was really from, piped up. "Hermione made really good friends with a couple girls in her year. Fawn Fawcett, Lottie St. Clair and Elna Honig," he said, giving Hermione a small smile. "They were really close, so I am sure one of the girls has just been inviting Hermione over. Right?"

"Yes," Hermione said, feeling grateful. "Lottie is in a very serious relationship and wants to have some girl chat about her future," Hermione added, giving Cedrella a bright smile.

"Oh, Charlotte St. Clair - I believe her mother is Georgia Rowle...such a good family. They were shocked when she ran off with that St. Clair boy, but he has plenty of money, even if he _is_ a muggleborn," Cedrella said with a gleeful tone that could only be had when she was sharing a bit of gossip. Then her face fell when she realized she was talking to Hermione. "Oh, no offense, Bunny."

"None taken," Hermione said with a tight smile.

"Well, of course you will go and visit her," Cedrella insisted. "I am sure that she is such a sweet girl. Give her my well wishes. You are of age, Hermione. You don't need to ask my permission to go and visit your friends for the day if you want to."

It appeared that the decision was made for her, and so Hermione wrote Rodolphus a quick response, agreeing to lunch with him. Then she retreated to her room to get ready for the day, realizing that this was one of the first times that Rodolphus would be able to see her in something out of the uniform. As she took the time to make sure that she looked her best, she could at least see the positives - Rodolphus was not trying to hide her away in some secret location. Instead, he was willing to go to lunch with her in the middle of Diagon Alley during the day, when tons of people might see them together.

Before she knew it, she was apparating away to Diagon Alley, and stepping into the restaurant. Rodolphus was easy to find, leaning back into his chair looking bored and utterly handsome. The second that his blue eyes found her form, he lit up, his face transformed by a slow smile. He stood from the table when she got to his side, wrapping her in a hug.

But, he quickly realized that she wasn't returning it. Slowly, he pulled back, noticing her frowning face. "Hermione? Is everything alright?" he asked, searching her face looking for something to give him a hint of what was wrong.

"Let's just sit down, shall we?" she answered, before taking the seat across from him. Suddenly, their public setting did not seem like such a positive. How was she supposed to be able to yell at him and be furious with him when there would be so many people watching? Was this the real reason why he had planned to meet there?

A waiter was by to take their drink orders, but then there was nothing to keep them from talking to one another. "What's the matter?" he asked, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

"You _can't_ just be sitting there pretending like you don't know that I'm upset with you," Hermione said through clenched teeth, utterly baffled about why Rodolphus would be acting like there was nothing wrong. "You didn't even _try_ to say goodbye to me before you left Hogwarts and then you just pretend like nothing is wrong."

"It wasn't like that -" Rodolphus insisted.

"And don't try to pretend like you didn't see me on the train," she hissed, knowing that they had made eye contact.

Rodolphus reached across the table to give her hand a squeeze. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but I was just...I got scared, thinking about _us_ out here in the real world," he explained, his voice low. "I mean, you are insistent that I tell my family about you, and I _know_ what my father would do not only to me, but to you, too...and I just panicked."

Hermione softened a bit. Although he certainly wasn't blameless, she could acknowledge that maybe she had pushed Rodolphus too far when she mentioned that he should tell his father about her. "You could have just told me that," she answered, keeping his eye contact.

"It is different, being out of the safety of Hogwarts," he said, his eyebrows pulled together. "Suddenly, I've got so many more people pulling me in different directions. But you are right - I should have told you and I should have said goodbye to you. I was a fool."

"I don't want to pull you in a direction that you don't want to go," Hermione said, biting at her lower lip, worrying that she was putting him in an impossible position. Yes, of course she really liked Rodolphus, much more than she cared to admit, but she didn't want to hurt him either. "Maybe it's better if we just go our separate ways," she continued, feeling a knot form in her throat. "This isn't sustainable."

"No!" Rodolphus squeezed her hands tighter, showing that he wasn't able to let her go. "I'm not ready to let you go, Hermione. These last few weeks without you haven't been torture."

"But what if someone finds out?" she asked, nervously looking around the restaurant, wondering if anyone would be reporting back to his father. She wondered just what Rodolphus had been thinking, bringing her here.

He frowned. "I want to be able to show you off," he explained. "But I don't think that I am ready to go completely public. Someday…someday I will be ready to stand up to my father and tell him to shove it, but, for now...I just want to keep you to myself."

Hermione swallowed, wondering what she should do about it. She didn't want to be with someone who was ashamed of her, but she also didn't think that Rodolphus _was_ ashamed of who she was. Just, the timing was inconvenient. She wondered if she should tell him about Bellatrix's instructions on the train ride home…

"If you can't...if you can't put up with me and all my sneaking around, I would understand if you don't want to see me again…" he trailed off, shoulders visably drooping when her silence stretched on, perhaps certain that she was going to reject him.

But...she could admit that she was happier seeing him now than she had been in the last miserable week, wondering what had gotten into him. Maybe she could be content with just a summer fling, one last great romance before she returned to school and he relented to family pressure and married Bellatrix? Or, maybe he would really surprise her and actually choose her in the end.

Hermione really felt like she was setting herself up for failure, but at the same time she wondered what she had to lose. She was growing increasingly frustrated with Dumbledore's progress on getting her to her correct time, and it was making her feel reckless - wanting to throw all caution to the wind.

"I _want_ to see you again," she confessed. "So much more than I should, Rodolphus. I feel like this is the worst decision that I could be making, but… I'm not ready to let go of you either. I just ask that you don't hurt me too badly in the end."

He shook his head. "I will do everything in my power to make sure that I don't hurt you again," he promised - so earnestly, that Hermione found herself actually believing him. "As I see it, I've got all summer to make it up to you for acting like such an idiot these last few weeks."

Hermione blushed, unsure of what he was suggesting. "That's not necessary," she told him.

"I don't know, you might enjoy it - nights and weekends at my flat…" he said, enjoying the pink color of her cheeks. "Sneaking away to France. I know that you won't be impressed by a shopping trip, but who doesn't want to bask in the sunlight on the beach?"

She could admit that all of those things did sound wonderful. "Maybe a trip to a museum, too?" she asked, imagining whiling away the day with Rodolphus's hand in hers while she looked at statues, spending their evenings talking about what they'd seen in a little tucked away bistro. She wondered if he'd be willing to venture into the muggle world with her.

With their relationship at least decided for the moment, the young couple spent the rest of their lunch talking about all the possibilities that summer held for the two of them. It wasn't long before Rodolphus had talked Hermione into coming over to visit his flat the next week - something she eagerly agreed to, all the while wondering how she was going to convince the Weasleys to let her go. Somehow, she didn't think Arthur was going to be so helpful a second time.

The bill finally came and it was time for Rodolphus to head back to his job at the Ministry, which he insisted was as utterly boring as he'd predicted it would be. He lead her outside the restaurant, before pulling her down a near alley. Pressing her back against the cobblestone, his lips found her as easily as ever, coaxing her lips open so that he could deepen the kiss into something nearly too indecent for public. Hermione rubbed against him like a cat, wondering how she was ever going to give him up.

When he pulled away, he gave her his signature half smile, half smirk. "I don't know how that's meant to hold me over until I see you next, Hermione, but it will have to do," he said. "See you in a week."


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Apologies on the delay for this chapter - no good excuse for it, I really just forgot to post it :/ You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-one and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-two soon!

* * *

July 1968

Getting away to see Rodolphus was easier than Hermione would have expected. Cedrella seemed embarrassed to have suggested that Lottie's family was somehow _less than_ because her father was a muggleborn, and so she did everything that she could to promote the 'friendship' between the two girls. She also was fond of mentioning how _progressive_ the Weasley family really was, and how it had caused a rift between herself and her family.

Hermione wanted to ask the older woman what she thought of Bellatrix and Andromeda and Narcissa Black and their respective romantic entanglements. Would Cedrella reach out to Andromeda when she was eventually disowned for falling in love with Ted Tonks? Or were they too separated by the Black family's twisting branches to care much for the younger witch?

But, Hermione thought that would be taking things a step too far, butting into Cedrella's family more than she already had. She wondered what Cedrella would think should she learn that her precious Bunny was cavorting with Rodolphus Lestrange when she said she giggling with Lottie St. Clair.

Things with Rodolphus had remained slightly strained, but their relations were steadily improving. Hermione was thrilled when she got an invitation to come over to his flat for dinner, and rushed to get ready, shouting to Cedrella a lie about where she was going. She barely even caught Arthur's worried look on the way out the floo.

Rodolphus met her at the Leaky Cauldron and walked the short distance to his building, which was all the way at the other end of the Alley in the much more fashionable part. The buildings got bigger, cleaner, and more stately the further that they walked from the entrance to Diagon Alley. He took her hand once they arrived outside his door, and he eagerly led her up the stairs until they were outside of his door.

Once they were inside, Rodolphus wasted no time in pressing her back against the locked door, kissing her eagerly. Hermione was happy to respond, deepening the kiss and sighing into him, thinking at how much she had missed this in just the week that they were apart. Still, she didn't want to spend the whole time snogging, and pressed back against his broad shoulders until her reluctantly freed her. "Give me a chance to look around, first," she teased with a grin.

Rodolphus look sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean to...I just missed you a lot," he revealed with a smile, looking at her fondly, before he turned and let her in. "This is my flat - nothing too spectacular, I am sure," he said, sweeping his arm in front of him to show off the area.

Even though _he_ might not have thought his flat was anything special, it was quite impressive to Hermione. It seemed to take up nearly the whole floor of the building, with a luxe looking living room. "Well, show me around - I want to see all of it," she prodded, knowing that this was only a portion of it.

Taking her hand, Rodolphus led her down the hall to a simple looking kitchen. "Don't know how to do much in here. Usually just call for a house elf if I need something, or order something," he explained, noticing the distressed look on his face. "It's not as if I need to know how to make food for myself," he reminded her. Hermione supposed that it was true - he would likely always have someone to look after him, but it still didn't make her feel any better about his reliance on a house elf.

Instead of making a fuss, Hermione allowed herself to be lead back down the hallway. Rodolphus opened the door and poked his head inside. "Powder room - for guests," he explained. It was nice, of the same quality of everything else in the flat. It seemed to scream and advertise the wealth that Rodolphus's family had.

There were doors on either side of the powder room, the first leading into a guest room that Rodolphus confessed he hadn't had any uses for so far, but his friends had been talking about coming down for a visit. The door opposite lead to the massive master suite. "My room," he explained, leading her inside.

Rodolphus's room had enough space to accommodate a small study area, as well as a pair of loveseats in front of a fireplace. There was an ensuite bathroom with a gorgeous look clawfoot tub in the center, the sink already cluttered with his various toiletries, including the expensive cologne that he wore. The elephant in the room was clearly the large bed that dominated the center of the room, looking far too inviting by half. Hermione was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was large and when her fingers reached out, she confirm that the bedding was as comfortable as it looked.

She turned to look up at him, only half-way innocently, curious to see the emotions run across his face. He looked nearly...strangled by his desires, but determined not to give him. "Perhaps it was too presumptuous of me to bring you in here," he was barely able to choke out.

"Why?" Hermione asked, thinking it might be nice to snog him in a bed for once, not having to sneak around the library matron or bump into cleaning supplies in a cupboard.

"It's just...I wanted to celebrate with you first," he said, his eyes unable to leave her form when she sat on the edge of the beg, egging him on, even though she knew it was cruel to do to him. "I've prepared snacks and champagne and...I got my NEWT scores back."

News of his results got Hermione's attention more surely and she sprang up from the bed, crossing the room to meet him. "How did you do?" she asked, nibbling her lower lip nervously, wondering, _needing_ to know how he had done. She so desperately wanted him to pass, to see that he had done well, thinking that it might be some sign of positive change in the former Slytherin, even if she never knew how he had done the first time around.

"I don't know," he answered, his eyes still flickering back and forth between her and the bed. "Didn't feel right to open them up if you weren't there."

Hermione made a slight noise of exasperation, before leading him back into the living room. "Merlin, how could you possibly live with the uncertainty? I would have been dying of curiosity!"

In the living room, Rodolphus had set out some charcuterie and cheeses, and a bottle of champagne sat chilling under a charm. The envelope holding his exam scores sat on the table as well. Rodolphus sat down on the couch before patting at the seat next to him. Once Hermione sat down next to him, he handed _her_ the envelope holding his fate. "Go on, you open," he said, looking down into his lap. "I can't do it. Too nervous."

She was far too invested in him doing well to second guess the request. Sure fingers tore open the Ministry seal, before she greedily read the results. A noise bubbled up in her throat. "You've done well, Rodolphus!" she said, shoving the piece of paper in his hands. "You've passed _everything_."

He plucked the paper from her hands, checking to see that she wasn't messing with him. He'd mostly received Exceeds Expectations, along with one Acceptable, but what stood out most of all the was the Outstanding in History of Magic. "Oof," Rodolphus said, leaning back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling in wonderment and surprise. "See if my father can sniff at _that_. A bloody Outstanding?!" he murmured, looking exceptionally proud of himself.

Hermione had already opened the bottle of champagne and was pouring them each a glass, pressing one coupe glass into his hand. "Congratulations, Rodolphus," she said, stretching to press a wet kiss to his cheek. "I _knew_ you could do it."

Their glasses clinked together, sending a resounding ring to reverberate through the room. They both drank their portions readily enough and more champagne was to be had, ready to celebrate. For once, Rodolphus was happy to tell her about his work that he'd been doing, seeing as his mentor had sent him to do research on the Statute of Secrecy, something that he had some interest in. Without supervision, he'd spent most of his time reading in the library at the Ministry, but some time goofing off as well, even sneaking off to watch a summer Quidditch match with Flint.

"I can't believe your father would have you live here," she said in passing, thinking it was rather extravagant, and allowed Rodolphus far too much freedom - especially seeing as Rodolphus had suggested his father would want to control his life after Hogwarts. "Seems it would be difficult to keep an eye on you when he could just have you floo into the Ministry from your home."

Rodolphus shrugged his shoulders, perhaps never giving the topic much thought. "He's alright with it, so long as I come home for dinner once a week. I am sure old Nott gives him daily updates on my goings on at the Ministry, too," he said rolling his eyes, pulling Hermione closer to his body. "Recently, he's been wanting me to meet an associate of his - someone named Tom Riddle or something."

Hermione felt her stomach turn in agony - the first mention of Voldemort in _weeks _and it had come from Rodolphus's mouth. She wondered when he stopped using his father's name. "Oh?" she found herself asking, feeling as if she were floating out of her body.

"Yeah, apparently he's been doing lots of good work with the whole squib rebellion and all my father's friends are real impressed with him," Rodolphus explained, pressing his hands to her waist. "Thinks I might find him inspiring, but I am sure that he's nothing special."

She gave him a tight smile even when he pulled her into his lap, encouraging her to straddle his trim waist. Pressed against him, Hermione rested her hands on his shoulders, looking down at him. "I don't want to talk about your work or politics any more tonight," she said, needing to be distracted from the terrible turn of events.

To her relief, Rodolphus was not too committed to the topic of conversation either, especially not when his hands were on her hips. No, he seemed far more interested in the sight in front of him. HIs hand traced up her back until it was gently cradling her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. Hermione was happy to return it eagerly, unwilling to give up Rodolphus. She moaned against him when his deft fingers worked to undo the buttons on her blouse - large hands cupping her breasts through her bra. Her body felt like it was made from lava when his hips jerked against hers involuntarily, unable to hide his body's natural response to their closeness. She kissed him until she'd forgotten everything else - the squib rebellion, mentions of Tom Riddle, thoughts of the past or the future, even Rodolphus's last name. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the feelings that he was creating in her body.

It was only when he made to move like he was going to pick her up and carry her off to his bedroom to have his way with her that Hermione reluctantly broke the kiss with a groan, a blush on her cheeks when she saw how utterly mused she was. "That _might_ be a little too much for my first visit to your flat," she said, teasing. It wasn't that she wasn't ready to take that next step with Rodolphus, but she knew that would be the point of no return for her heart.

"Understandable," he answered, adjusting himself through his pants, completely unembarrassed. "It is rather late - I better get you back to the apparition point, or else the Weasleys will never let you visit St. Clair again," he teased back, fulling embracing the ruse that Hermione had selected. "Think they would let you visit France with them?" he asked,tentatively.

She wasn't able to stop the grin from forming on her face, thinking of how wonderful that would be. "I'll have to ask Cedrella and let Lottie know as soon as possible so she can start planning," she answered with a kiss, ready to see where the rest of summer took them.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter. This chapter will give us some French seaside and of course some important political talks, too. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-two and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-three soon!

* * *

July 1968

Hermione was actually surprised by how easy it was to get the Weasleys to agree to let her go to France with "Lottie". An international portkey had been sent to her and it seemed that was all the proof that they needed - after all, the St. Clairs would have had to have gone to the Ministry, so _everything_ must be on the up and up.

Still, Hermione wrote to Lottie to get her in on the ruse _just in case_. The other witch happily agreed, with the promise that she _would _be demanding details when they returned to Hogwarts that autumn.

She had been looking forward to spending a whole weekend with Rodolphus, exploring the south of France with him, but it was another thing to _actually_ be there. She couldn't really believe that she was in a foreign country with Rodolphus _Lestrange_ and it send her belly into a series of flip flops when she thought about what Ron or Harry would think of her. She'd know Rodolphus for nearly a year, now, though, and she felt safe with him.

It was odd to be alone with him in his family's vacation flat. The luxury that they lived in seemed completely inaccessible to her, and the domesticity of them living side-by-side, even if just for a few days, of sharing a bed with him was almost uncomfortable. She knew that this _wasn't_ the life that she was meant for, and being exposed to it just made it all the more obvious. Hermione tried to push that down, and just enjoy the vacation while she could.

The first day they were there, Rodolphus took her to the beach, spending the whole afternoon laying out in the hot sun. It felt wonderful to soak in the sun's rays, and even better to see the lingering looks that Rodolphus gave her when he thought she wasn't looking, her swim suit revealing far more skin than he'd ever seen on display before. Hermione was happy to appreciate the way that he looked as well, her eyes skimming over his trim waist and long, strong legs. When they got too hot, Rodolphus would carry her giggling all the way into the sea, letting the gorgeous blue-green water cool them off. When they'd return to their beach chairs, Hermione enjoyed the feeling of the water evaporating off her skin, leaving her covered in gooseflesh until she was warmed up once again.

They drank far more wine than they should have and even ordered their dinner out on the beach, unwilling to go back to the flat until the last rays of the sun dipped under the horizon. When they got back, Hermione had gone to shower the sea off of her body and Rodolphus offered to help her. Thinking of him under the water spray with her, his hands all over her, nearly had her agreeing, but she denied him once again. She knew it wouldn't stop his deft fingers from finding their way under her top and beneath the waistband of her shorts later than night when they climbed into bed together.

The next day, Hermione had somehow convinced Rodolphus to go into the muggle world with her. She noted, with surprise, about how the two worlds were better integrated down here, and Rodolphus even made a note to look into it further when he was studying the Statute of Secrecy. So far removed from Paris, it seemed that the rules were not so rigid down here.

He had been nervous, but he tried to put on a brave face, though he put his foot down when Hermione wanted to rent a scooter to drive around and see more. They went to two museums, and Rodolphus appreciated the muggle art, finding an odd sort of beauty in the static paintings. All in all, Hermione was convinced that she'd shown him that the muggles weren't all that scary _or_ that different from wizards. They all just wanted to succeed, find happiness and survive at their most basic.

Perhaps it was just hopeful thinking, but Hermione thought that Rodolphus was beginning to see muggles in a different way.

She even went so far as to _finally_ talk about her parents briefly with him. Hermione could see that he was full of questions, but too afraid to answer too many questions. She told him about her father's dental practice and the family vacations that they used to take together, but stopped short of sharing _what had happened_ to them. It was too painful to come up with a lie, especially when she genuinely did miss them more than she could properly articulate.

On their last night in France together, Rodolphus took her out to a small restaurant with a view of the promenade in front of the sea. It was a beautiful night, still hot enough to wear a loose shift dress, and Hermione was seized by a desire to stay there and never leave again. Maybe she could convince Rodolphus to do they same and they could create a life of their own, unburdened by all the complications of back home.

But, back home could not be completely ignored and before Hermione knew it, they were debating over the Squib Rebellion once again over their shrimp and wine. The rebels had nearly been handled, some Ministry wizards having found a way to track them down with magic. It was unfortunate, but Hermione knew that the Squibs were about to face retribution for the guerrilla tactics during their uprising. Public support had been wrenched from the pureblood cause the moment that they started using muggle tactics to destroy magical property, giving the hardliners support for their extreme ideologies.

When Rodolphus mentioned that he was glad that things were finally going to be coming to a close, Hermione couldn't hold her tongue any more. "Just because they caused a slight inconvenience to you doesn't mean that we should just pick the most extreme route for these people," she said, twirling her pasta around her fork so that she wouldn't have to look at his face. "I know it's _easier_ to just give them the kiss, but it's certainly not _right_ and it certainly isn't going to make the problem go away."

"I don't know," Rodolphus said with a frown. "Other squibs will see that the kiss is a deterrent. They have caused too much destruction for us not to take a firm stance with them. Hopefully future squibs will realize that remaining in their own world is the best solution."

"There _has_ to be a better solution than just shoving them out of our world with no resources, and pretend that they were never even on your family tree to begin with," Hermione countered hotly, feeling the beginnings of tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Not only did she feel incredibly bad for the squibs, but she knew that it was just a step in the direction of keeping muggleborns out of the wizarding world as well. "That's what's caused this whole rebellion in the first place."

Rodolphus looked for the words to decide how he wanted to answer. "I agree that we've perhaps been a little harsh in the past when it has come to squibs, but that isn't a reason for magical people to be saddled down by squibs, paying to take care of them."

Hermione's stomach twisted in nerves, recognizing one of Abraxas Malfoy's talking points that had been used to counter the Minister's current plan to create a fund that would help squibs support squibs in their transition to the muggle world. It had been firmly denounced by the Wizengamot, and Hermione just knew that Tom Riddle...Voldemort...had his fingers in this, even if it wasn't obvious. To hear Rodolphus speaking similar sentiments made her incredibly worried and she knew that she couldn't keep quiet on him any longer. "You sound like bigoted Malfoy," she told him with hurt in her eyes. "They are _people_, just like you and I, and they should be treated with basic dignity. What's next? Killing any baby that doesn't manifest it's magic so it's not a burden to _your_ kind."

_That_ accusation seemed to catch his attention and he immediately began backpedaling. "I didn't mean it that way, Hermione," he said with a frown. "And I would never, ever do that. Harm a child? Kill a child?" he asked looking truly horrified. She thought about what she knew about Neville's parents and wondered if he could still become that person. Had Rodolphus just gone down a slippery slope?

_Merlin_, she wished that she didn't know _anything_ about the future. It hurt too much, not knowing if she could make any meaningful changes with him. She wanted to believe that he was the man she had come to...well, love really. But part of her worried that it was all nothing more than a waste of time. Her tears were now threatening to spill over.

"Hermione?" he asked, reaching over to grab her hand and give it a squeeze. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she told him honestly. "I just worry about you when I hear you saying things like _that_ and mentioning Tom Riddle...I worry that our ideologies just might not be compatible."

Rodolphus scoffed. "Don't worry about him, Hermione," he tried to reassure her. "He's just one of my father's annoying old friends."

"I just don't want you to get sucked into their...their propaganda," Hermione explained, hoping that she was making the right decision, telling him this. "I mean, right now they are just talking about squibs, but what if muggleborns are next, and they are deciding that the wizarding world shouldn't be burdened by people like me?"

"No," he insisted, holding her hand tighter. "I promise that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, Hermione. You mean too much to me. And you could never be a burden to our world. You are smart and driven and ambitious. Honestly, I bet my father would like you if he didn't know..."

"But it isn't _just_ me. It's all muggleborns," she insisted. "I don't want to be the special muggleborn who is the exception to the rule. All of us are people and we deserve to be treated as equals."

"I think the biggest issue is integration. People like my father are disappointed by the way that magical culture seems to be forgotten...eroded," he explained.

"Of course, we could do a better job of bridging the cultural differences between muggleborns and purebloods," Hermione conceded. "But without people like your family _sharing_ those traditions, well...we would never even know that they existed. I just don't know if that's possible right now." She frowned, knowing that it was something that would have to be addressed eventually, otherwise the same issue would keep bubbling up. "Muggleborns _don't_ want to erase your traditions, we just want to learn."

She watched as Rodolphus's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat. "_I_ know that," he swore, sounding one hundred percent honest. "I just don't want you to worry...I would never support something like getting rid of all the muggleborns, even if my father _ordered_ me to. I...I care too much about you to let something like that get in between us."

Hermione swallowed thickly, lapping up his words like honey. _Godric_, she hoped that he could remain that earnest as his father grew more persistent. But, he'd given her no reason to doubt him this far. "I am glad," she said, hoping that the uneasy feeling that had taken root inside of her would fade with time. "I didn't mean to ruin our last night here."

"It hasn't been ruined," he insisted. "It's good to talk about these things. To talk about our...our future together." It seemed as though he still had not given up on a chance of them being together long term and...if he wasn't going to give up, Hermione decided that she would not either.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter out to y'all - I find myself doing that a lot lately :/ I try really hard to keep a regular update schedule, but basically, I've had a lot of things going on IRL lately, and it's been difficult to find the time to write. I will try to get back on schedule soon! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-three and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-four soon!

* * *

August 1968

As the school year grew closer, Cedrella grew more suspicious of Hermione's increasing desire to want to spend time with her friend Lottie. "I just don't understand," Mrs. Weasley said with a bit of a frown, when Hermione asked to spend the weekend with Lottie. "You'll be seeing the St. Clair girl every day in just a few weeks."

"Well, she's invited Fawn and Elna, too - oh, you know them...Fawn Fawcett and Elna Honig - to have a little bit of a girls weekend before going back to school to study all the time. Fawn is back from Switzerland and we are all dying to hear about her trip," Hermione lied with a plastered on smile, knowing that she wanted nothing more than to spend the weekend with Rodolphus. "And, we were planning a trip to Diagon Alley to get all of our school supplies."

"I thought that we would go to Diagon Alley together next week," Cedrella said with a frown. "Just like we did last year."

"Come on mum," George said with a frown, throwing Hermione a bone. "Hermione doesn't want to go with us when she could go with her friends. She's a teenage girl after all."

"Oh, I'll go with you, too," Hermione promised, hoping that she sounded sincere. "I mean, I would love to go on an outing with you and George, but I just wanted to-"

Cedrella cut her off. "It's alright, Bunny, I completely understand," she said with a knowing look on her face. "I haven't forgotten what it's like to be young and popular. I suppose I just am realizing how much I will miss you company when the two of you go back to Hogwarts this September."

Hermione was touched to know that the other woman felt that way about her, that she was a treasured friend and almost a real part of the family. She realized that she was going to miss Cedrella, too, as she was almost certainly not going to be coming back after her school year was over. Wrapping the older woman in a tight hug, Hermione rather caught her off guard. "I'm going to miss you, too. I will never forget what your family has done for me," she swore, knowing that it was true. She couldn't imagine where she would be if the Weasleys hadn't agreed to take her into their home.

When she eventually released Cedrella, the other witch was blinking rapidly, trying to hide her tears. "Well, go on Bunny, and pack for your weekend," she insisted. "I hope you girls have fun."

Being given the final go ahead made Hermione feel a little bit bad to be lying to her, but she was too excited to see Rodolphus to rethink her plans for the weekend. Heading up to her room, Hermione grabbed the overnight bag that she had prepared, before apparating off to Diagon Alley where she could be meeting her boyfriend.

Rodolphus was waiting for her there, looking casual with the top button of his robes undone after his work shift, making him look a bit roguish. He pulled her into a quick hug and kiss in greeting, before leading her along the familiar path to his flat, telling her all about what he'd found that day in the libraries of the Ministry, having grown to enjoy the research that he did.

Since their discussion in France, it seemed like he was more willing to look at things in a different perspective. It seemed to her that he was considering some of the long held beliefs that had been passed onto him by his father were not entirely true. Of course, it wasn't as if he'd become a crusader for muggleborn rights, but he seemed more aware of the way some of his casual comments would be received by her.

And, Hermione was grateful for it. She knew that he was at least _trying_, and that was all she could ask for. It always made her heart flutter in her chest when she thought about the changes that she'd made, because she was _entirely_ certain that the Rodolphus Lestrange that had attacked her and her friends in the Department of Mysteries would never have done that. But, she wouldn't let herself fall into an existential crisis over the dangers of her meddling with time, not when everything was going so well.

With her bag deposited safely in his flat, the pair of teenagers left the building once again to head to the little wizarding market nearby. Hermione was embarrassed to admit that she hadn't known that it was there, and even more embarrassed that she hadn't thought about _how _wizards got their food to begin with. After all, it wasn't as if there was a Sainsbury's on the corner. She was more excited to be cooking with Rodolphus to begin with. Somehow, she'd gotten him to agree to try cooking with her, the muggle way, something that had surprised herself, as she wasn't exactly known for being the best chef. Hopefully, she couldn't mess up spaghetti and meatballs too terribly.

It was nice to wander around the little cobbled streets with Rodolphus, feeling almost like they were a _real_ couple. They weren't having to hide from anyone, strolling hand in hand, while they stopped from shop to shop. When they came across a florist, Rodolphus insisted on buying some pretty hydrangeas, if not for Hermione when she protested, at least to liven up their dining room table. "It's nice being out in the open with you like this," Hermione commented with a smile on her face. "It reminds me of France."

Rodolphus colored a bit when he revealed that he knew there was no chance of his father or any of his associates running into them in this part of the alley. Hermione frowned when he said that, but didn't comment further. "Honestly, I small part of me is almost hoping that he will find out about you - that he will finally get off my case about all of his plans for me," he admitted. "Only, I wouldn't want to subject you to his fury."

"You don't have to worry so much about me, Rodolphus," Hermione responded, softening a bit when she heard that he was just worried about her. Only, she didn't exactly need looking after. She almost found herself telling him about the number of times that she'd taken on fully grown Death Eaters, before stopping herself from revealing too much. "I'm a capable witch. You should see me in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He snorted at her pronouncement. "My father would make what they teach you in DADA look like childsplay unfortunately," he said with a frown, going a bit sullen and quiet.

Once Hermione had selected the tomatoes, garlic and onion she wanted for her sauce, she turned to face him. "What has he been nagging you about lately?" she asked, wondering if he was still hoping that Rodolphus would join the Death Eaters, and if he would be successful in his quest.

"Preparations for the autumnal equinox - it's meant to be a time to celebrate the harvest and give alms to those less fortunate in our community," he explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Of course, to my father's set, that means finding some poor sap who is down on his luck and encouraging him to eat and drink to the point of excess, all while laughing to his face."

"That sounds horrible," Hermione said, thinking that it was rather typical of _those_ sort of purebloods to ruin what was probably a wonderful tradition.

"Yeah," Rodolphus agreed, his eyebrows drawn together. "Just another way to rub how _unworthy_ someone is in their faces. The things that they come up with sometimes absolutely disgusts me. Of course Rab has been pestering me to go and give him all the details. He can't _wait_ to participate when he comes of age."

Hermione knew that Rabastan was a very touchy subject for the wizard. He genuinely cared for his little brother and wanted to shower him with the love and affection that he didn't get from his father. But the standoffishness of his father only made Rabastan crave the attention more. Rodolphus tried to steer his little brother in a better direction, but was so far unable to, especially considering that Rodolphus had brushed off his concerns about Hermione. "I'm sure that someday he'll understand the bigger picture...about treating people right," she offered, hopefully.

Rodolphus was not as convinced and just guided her into a butchers where they could get the final ingredients that they needed for their dinner. "I hope so," he agreed quietly. "But the sort of friends he made...they weren't like my friends." Of course, it wasn't as if Rodolphus and his friends had been known for being politically minded - instead, little more than Quidditch jocks.

With all their needed groceries assembled, Rodolphus lead her back to his flat, changing the topic of conversation to Hermione's difficult schedule for her coming seventh year. She was intending to take seven NEWTs, and considering taking the Muggle Studies NEWT, even though she'd dropped the class. Surely she could just wing that one as a muggleborn? Rodolphus thought that it sounded like an awful lot of studying.

"Well, think of all of the free time that I will have now that you are away from school," Hermione teased him with a coquettish grin, once they got back into his flat. "Think of how many hours I _wasted_ snogging you in broom closets."

"Oi, I take offense that you would call that _wasted_ time," Rodolphus said with a fake scowl on his lips.

"I just meant that I won't have you there to distract me," she said, pressing a hand to his chest to sooth him. "The library will be a lot lonelier without you there, this year."

Rodolphus looked a little bit unsure of himself for a moment. "Promise?" he pressed, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Hermione felt her heart stutter in her chest, her heart full of love for the young man in front of her. "Of course, I promise," she told him honestly, knowing that it was going to be difficult to say goodbye to him and return to Hogwarts, unsure of how their relationship would go after that.

He pressed his hands to her waist, easily lifting her up to sit on the counter, before standing in the space between her legs so that they were nearly eye to eye. Rodolphus caught her lips in a kiss that was familiar, but still just as exciting as the first one that they had shared together. He always seemed to know just how to move, just when to press and when to pull, when to take their kisses deeper, until her mind was spinning with the feeling.

Pushing back at his shoulders, knowing there would be plenty more time for snogging, and maybe even more, later, she laughed when she saw the disappointed pout that he wore on his face. "Rodolphus, we have to start making our dinner," she insisted, breathless and amused. "Or else you will starve. And I will never get the pleasure of seeing you trying to cook the muggle way."

Rodolphus groaned, thoroughly disappointed, but knowing that it was the truth. He helped her down from the counter, before unpacking their bag. "Couldn't I just trim the flowers and put them on the table? Maybe light some candles and pour the wine?" he asked, coming up behind her to press another kiss against the side of her neck.

Hermione giggled, leaning back into him. "You are _incorrigible_. Start with the wine and then join me, chopping the tomatoes," she suggested, knowing that he was probably going to do great at it. "It's not that different from potions, I promise."

The two of them settled into a routine, working side by side, filled with several breaks for kisses. It was so enjoyable that Hermione found herself imagining a time when they could do the same thing every night together, before slipping off into bed for the evening.

That was the _future_ she found herself longing for.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! It's been long - far too long really - to go without an update. I knew what was going to happen in this chapter, but I just found it really difficult to write for some reason. Hopefully it will live up to what you want. If you aren't really into the smutty/intimate bits, you could skip this one. However, we are halfway through the story, now! Whoo!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-four and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-five soon!

* * *

**August 1968**

The following morning, Hermione woke slowly from the sunlight streaming into Rodolphus's bedroom. She stretched languorously, letting her toes skim the length of her bed partner's leg, unable to hold back the smile when she felt his hair covered shin underfoot. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light.

Rodolphus's face came into focus immediately and once again she was taken aback by how handsome he really was. She liked seeing him more like this, unpolished and relaxed without a care in the world. His lips were barely parted and Hermione shivered, think of all the wonderful feelings those same lips had made her feel.

Her fingers traced up the plains of his chest, over the strong curve of his jaw, enjoying the slightly prickly feeling of his unshaven face. Her thumb skimmed over his bottom lip, her eyes darting to his own closed lids, wanting to make sure that he hadn't woken up from her delicate handling. Continuing her crusade to catalog each and every feature of this Rodolphus's handsome visage so that she might never forget it, she let her fingertips glide down the length of his nose, stopping at the tip.

It did not take long for the corners of his lips to pull up unbidden in a smile, his own eyelids blinking open until she was met with the familiar blue color of his eyes - pale and passionate and uniquely Rodolphus.

"You are studying me more furiously than unfamiliar charms work," he quipped, his voice still thick with sleep. Turning half way onto his side, he did not shy away from her touches, completely unabashed by her review of his features.

"I just want to remember you like this forever," she whispered, not entirely sure that she would be able to speak without revealing her true emotions. "I don't want to forget how this feels like."

Rodolphus gave her one of those half-smiles of his. "Why would you forget about this?" he asked, using his own hand to caress the length of her bare arm, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under Quidditch calloused hands.

"When I have to go to Hogwarts, and the distance and your father convinces you that I am not worth it," she said in a fit of pique, hating the way that Rodolphus could always make her go from being immeasurably happy to feeling frustrated and adrift. She didn't know what was the right thing to do in terms of being in the past, but she knew that she didn't want to give up Rodolphus.

His eyebrows drew together and his handsome face was marred by a frown. He pulled her body closer to him, pressing her face against his chest, holding her in his warm embrace. "_No one_ could convince me you are not worth it, Hermione. Not a few months of distance...and certainly not my father," he promised, his voice a rumble in his chest that Hermione could _feel_. "I love you too much to let something like that come between us."

Hermione felt her stomach swoop when she heard the words that she'd been pushing down in herself for weeks now. His heart beat loud against her ear the longer that she didn't respond, his body revealing how nervous he was, even if she'd never be able to tell from just looking at him. Turning her head up to face him, she rewarded Rodolphus with a grin. "I love you, too," she answered, feeling complete now that she knew her feelings were returned. Shyly, she returned her face to his chest, never wanting to leave his embrace.

Although she couldn't see his face, Hermione knew that Rodolphus was smiling as well, pressing an eager kiss to the top of her head. One hand slid down her back, easily finding the hem of her pajama top, sliding underneath to find bare skin. His fingers traced the length of her spine, pulling the shirt up with them. She shivered under the feeling, her legs pressed together to curb the ache that had begun to form in her center.

His free hand traced along the edge of her jaw, tilting her to look up at him. She was overcome by the look in his blue eyes - pure and certain. Holding her just so, he dipped his head so that he could capture her lips in a kiss. Their lips met tenderly, not full of unbridled passion in the heat of the moment, but rather sweet and honest, each one of them pouring the true depths of their feelings, of their affection, of their love for one another into the kiss.

However, it was nearly impossible to remain chaste when pressed so tightly against the wizard who had so completely captured her attention without really meaning to at all. She opened her lips to him, welcoming him to deepen the kiss. Still, Rodolphus took his time, rolling his tongue against hers, making her scrunch her toes up in pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Hermione pulled herself up to a more agreeable angle, never breaking their kiss.

The hand that had been massaging her back had slowly inched its way towards her side and had finally made its way to cup her breast. She moaned into him, loving the feel of his rough skin against hers, feeling her nipple pebble under his confident movements. After months of time together, he knew exactly how to touch her to leave her begging for more. Hermione pressed her body into him, arching her back to demand more contact with the handsome wizard.

But she wanted _more_. She wanted to feel him with absolutely nothing separating their bodies. Breaking their kiss, she looked down at him with purpose, ignoring Rodolphus's disappointed pout. Slipping her own fingers beneath the soft cotton of the shirt that he slept in, she began pulling it up, revealing tanned skin to her eyes. The muscles of his stomach were taut and appealing and Hermione couldn't resist running her fingers up his sides, watching in awe as he reacted to her unbidden. Rodolphus seemed to understand what it was that she was looking for, because he took over for her, pulling his shirt up and over his head, while she did the same of her own pajama top.

The look of awe in his eyes when he saw her nude from the waist up made Hermione feel powerful and confident. She'd never been the most looks obsessed witch, but she couldn't deny that there was something about being so obviously desired by someone else. It _did_ feel even better to be pressed together with nothing separating their bodies.

Unwilling to end their lazy morning explorations, Rodolphus kissed her once again, before kissing down her jaw, down her neck, until he found the juncture between her shoulder and neck. His open mouthed kisses left her feeling dizzy and needy, enjoying the give and take of soft pressure of his mouth and the soothing sensation of his tongue. Once he was certain to have left at least one love bite to show that she was his, he continued on his exploration of her body.

Hermione couldn't stop a small groan of pleasure at the feeling of his mouth around her breast, laving its hard point with his tongue. Her fingers delved into his lush hair, holding him in place, never wanting it to stop, but wanting more at the same time. Rodolphus seemed to understand her indecision, though, and after a few beats, his fingers found the elastic band of her shorts. He played with the band, perhaps giving her an opportunity to back out if she wanted to, but Hermione could think of nothing she'd want more in that moment.

Lifting her hips, she helped him pull the shorts down from around her hips, leaving her completely bare. She felt her heart beating away excitedly in her chest, when she realized that this might actually be happening. She and Rodolphus had had many intimate moments over the course of their relationship, but they had never gone all the way. _Godric_, Hermione had never gone all the way. However, she found that she wasn't even a little bit nervous, just excited and anxious to have it start.

Unsure of what to do next, Hermione pressed at Rodolphus's shoulders, wanting him to kiss her again. After initiating a deep kiss with him, she let her own hands explore his body, finding his own pants easily enough. Fumbling with the ties that held the pants snug, she was glad that he couldn't see her blushing from inexperience, hoping that she wasn't doing something _wrong._ Rodolphus groaned, but eventually joined her hands, helping her to free him equally, shoving his pants down his legs in an eager rush. It was always nice to know that he was just as affected as she was.

Confident fingers found her wet center easily enough, his thumb staying at the top of her sex, working that small nub in gentle circles, while first one and then a second finger entered her. He quickly worked her up to a fever pitch, knowing exactly how to get her body to respond after so much time together. With each thrust of his fingers, she felt her breathing quicken as she was steadily pushed closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. And when she finally snapped, her body went rigid, unable to do anything but hold onto the feeling of absolute pleasure he had given her.

She recovered slowly, but wrapped her arms around his shoulders when she finally did. "Please, Rodolphus. I want more," she whispered, needing to have him fully in that moment.

He looked a bit surprised, but certainly eager. Removing his fingers from inside of her, he began stroking himself. "Are you certain, Hermione?" he asked, his eyes searching her face for any dissent. "We can't go back from this."

"I'm sure. I love you," she repeated, feeling her breath catch in her throat when he positioned himself against her body. Wrapping a leg around his trim waist, she could feel her body open itself up to him whilst he began to move forward. It did not hurt as she had been lead to believe; instead, losing her virginity was little more than a bit of uncomfortable pressure, and then in a moment it was over and Rodolphus was fully inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust.

She was certain she'd never felt this close to anyone - physically or emotionally - and she was nearly overcome for a moment with what it all meant. The feeling of Rodolphus's full body weight pressed against her, with absolutely _nothing_ to separate them filled with a heady feeling that she never wanted to let go of.

And then Rodolphus started to move, pulling out of her, only to surge back forward, slowly at first, but quickly gaining. Hermione kept her arms wrapped tightly around his back, feeling his muscles move under his skin with each and every surge of his hips. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, wilder than she'd ever imagine, while his fingers held onto the soft flesh of her hips, holding onto her for purchase.

In the end, it didn't last very long for either of them; the persistent push and pull of her body quickly had Hermione cresting once again, eyes shut tight and holding onto him through his final uncoordinated thrusts before he was coming with her.

She wasn't sure how long that she laid their, enjoying the press of Rodolphus's body weight on her, his cooling skin under her finger tips while her mind reeled from the feeling, but she knew that she didn't want to let him go. She didn't want to return to the Weasleys and she didn't want to go back to Hogwarts and she didn't want Rodolphus to return to work where he might forget about her. "I'm _never_ going to give you up, Hermione," he whispered into her ear, before rolling onto his back and pulling her against him. And she would hold him to that promise.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! But more importantly, thank you for your patience...I know this chapter is long overdue. My real-life has been so hectic between trying to buy a house and preparing for a new addition to our family and starting new jobs that I have just been finding it difficult to carve out time to write. Still, writing this chapter felt so good, so I am going to try to get back in the habit of writing at least a little bit every day just to keep things moving forward. Thank you all so much for your understanding with the erratic updates. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-five and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-six!

* * *

**September 1968**

Summer was over in the blink of an eye and before Hermione knew it, she was being bundled up with Georgie to be sent to her seventh year at Hogwarts. It was hard to realize that she had spent over a year in the wrong time, over a year without her friends and family. What was even worse was realizing how that summer had been nearly the most fun she'd had since she went off to Hogwarts. All of the other summers she'd been too worried, convinced that something horrible was going to happen to Harry.

A part of her felt terrible that she had enjoyed herself so much, but a larger part of her just wanted to bask in the feeling of being normal for a change. It wasn't as if she had forgotten Harry and Ron, but it wasn't as if she could deny that being further removed from them had dulled the hurt, even if it would never quite go away completely. Instead, she was just left with the possibility that they might see each other again in the future.

Her brown eyes looked around the gathering of students, tuning out Cedrella and Georgie saying goodbye to one another. As if drawn like a magnet, Hermione found Rabastan Lestrange speaking with his rather severe looking father. Rabastan had grown a little bit taller, his face having lost a little bit of it's roundness, but he hadn't lost the sneer that he'd obviously mirrored off of his own father's.

Hermione was disappointed not to see Rodolphus with the rest of the family, and she wondered why he wouldn't want to say goodbye to Rabastan. Of course, there would be no way for her to forget the lengthy goodbye that they had staged only a week before, knowing that they wouldn't be able to see each other during the school year. Rodolphus had a way of clouding her brain, filling it with nothing but candy floss promises of how everything was going to work out. She'd left him feeling light as air and oversexed, but now the memories were tinged with sadness of knowing how long it would be before she saw him again.

_If _she saw him again. There was no guarantee that he would still want anything to do with her come holiday time, no matter how sweetly he'd promised her he would.

Pulled from her reverie, Hermione was wrapped into a quick round of hugs from Arthur and Cedrella, before she and Georgie headed off to the waiting train. The two teens, while friendly enough with one another, had no illusions that they would be sitting together. Hermione peeled off, heading in the opposite direction of Georgie, looking for either an empty compartment or her girlfriends.

She'd made it nearly to the back of the train before she found a seat that was blessedly empty. Stowing her trunk on the rack above her, Hermione slipped into the seat closest to the window. Her eyes scanned the crowd again, looking for one last glimpse of the Lestranges, but it seemed that Rabastan had already been sent off and his father certainly wasn't waiting around for the train to leave the station.

The compartment door slid open while Hermione was still absorbed in the rest of the students milling about on the platform. Turning slowly with a smile, expecting to see Elna sweeping in with a grin and a demand for details, she was surprised to see that it was none other than Bellatrix Black darkening her door. The Slytherin girl lazily swished her wand at the door behind it, making it clang shut quite noisily, before dropping into the seat across from Hermione.

"Bellatrix," Hermione said with a frown on her face. "What a.._.special _surprise to have you seek me out before school has even official begun." The Gryffindor was not sure what would have possessed Bellatrix to come looking for her, but she could imagine that it was nothing that she was going to enjoy.

"Oh _Granger_," Bellatrix cooed, putting on a voice that was eerily similar to the one that Hermione remembered from the future. "Don't act like you don't know that we have loads of things to catch up on."

"I don't know what I could possibly have done that would spark your interest," Hermione countered, her hand finding her own wand and tightening around it. She didn't imagine that Bellatrix would start a duel on the train, but there was no denying that she felt a little bit safer with protection in hand.

Bellatrix let out a little giggle then, before giving Hermione a knowing smirk. "Please don't pretend like your summer activities with my betrothed went unnoticed," she said, sickly sweet. "It's been the talk of gossip in...certain circles."

Hermione felt her face go a bit pink at hearing that Bellatrix knew about her and Rodolphus. She had hoped that they had been discreet enough, only meeting up in places that they wouldn't see anyone the other knew. Hermione had mixed feelings about sneaking around, but wasn't going to force a conversation between Rodolphus and his father until he was ready. Putting on a brave face, she tried to deflect Bellatrix once again. "I can't see how _my_ actions could have been of any particular interest to any gossip."

"Oh, don't be like that Hermione," Bellatrix said, not even a little bit fooled by Hermione's reticence. "I heard all about how he whisked you off to France for a weekend of romance. You did so well getting him to do whatever you wanted, just like I told you you would."

Hermione's flush deepened. She really had thought that no one would know about France. That really should have been far enough removed, but perhaps it wasn't as secretive as she'd thought. But then, a thought made her stomach sink...if Bellatrix had found out about it, did that mean Cedrella knew she'd been running around all summer, behaving badly. "Rodolphus does not do whatever I want," she said firmly.

"But you don't deny France," the other girl countered with a shark like grin, knowing that she'd won. "Tell me, did the two of you make love there? I've always heard that mudbloods were a bit lustier than us purebloods - that you just don't care about purity as much and-"

"Are you _trying _to offend me?" Hermione demanded, cutting off her line of questioning. She most certainly did not want to talk about losing her virginity with Bellatrix and if she was honest, the fact that she was right stung. Hermione could feel tears form in her eyes. It wasn't as though she regretted having sex with Rodolphus, but she had _not_ conceptualized it in the time period yet. Did Rodolphus think less of her because she'd been so eager to have him? Would Elna, Fawn and Lottie have similar morbid curiosities as Bellatrix. "Because you are being _incredibly_ rude asking me these sorts of things."

Bellatrix reeled back, shocked by Hermione's emotional outburst. "Don't go sniveling on me now. I just thought that we were _friends_."

Hermione felt stunned, hearing Bellatrix's suggestion. Did the other witch really think that this...dynamic could possibly be friendship? "We aren't _friends_, Bellatrix," she insisted. "You call me mudblood to my face and see me as little more than a convenient tool, to do… oh, I don't know what. Get Rodolphus in trouble in some way - using my own feelings against me," she spat, amazed by the stunned look on Bellatrix's face.

Something changed in Bellatrix then, and Hermione became distinctly aware that she was dealing with someone different...someone harder and more dangerous. Once again, she was reminded of the future barrelling towards her. "Fine - if that's the way you want it to be _mudblood_," Bellatrix sneered, standing up to her full height. "I don't care if you let my betrothed fuck you a hundred times. What I do care about is that it seems the fact that Rodolphus has a little mudblood girlfriend _hasn't_ gotten back to my father or his father. I'm not going through with this marriage and _you_ are going to fix it for me."

Sitting stunned, Hermione tried to think up a good response. She should have figured it out earlier that breaking off the betrothal was Bellatrix's plan all along. How else could she explain her insistence that Hermione continue her relationship with the wizard in question?

Turning on her heel, Bellatrix opened the compartment door forcefully, before spinning around to give her one last warning. "And believe me, mudblood, you are going to want to fix it on your own," she warned viciously. "Or I will take matters into my own hands," she promised, twirling her wand about between her fingers, looking as practiced and as dangerous as ever.

Hermione was left alone with her thoughts then, her stomach roiling in worry. For once in her life, she had absolutely no idea what was the right course of action. Should she warn Rodolphus about Bellatrix's plan, knowing that it would only cause a massive rift within his family? Or, a meaner little side of herself thought, she could let Bellatrix get her way, knowing that it would finally force the man she loved to prove himself to her once and for all. She didn't want the pair of them to get married if she could help it. But, there was always the chance that he wouldn't be able to keep his promises to her, which would leave her heartbroken. Better perhaps to just let nature take its course.

Suddenly, Rodolphus whispered plans to hole up in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade Village over the winter holiday seemed so achingly far away.

She was not left to her own swirling thoughts for long though, as the compartment door was once again pushed open, allowing her three giggling friends to spill into the space, brightening the mood considerably. They all exchanged greetings before Lottie turned to Hermione, a teasing smile on her face. "Don't think that I don't want to hear _all_ the little details of your eventful summer Hermione, but Fawn was just telling us that she _did_ have a little summer romance abroad!"

"Tell me everything," Hermione demanded, even though she wasn't normally one to ask for such information from a friend. It was a great way to get her mind off of the tumultuous thoughts running through her head...to forget about Bellatrix and her threats for a while.

The train pulled out of the station shortly after. Fawn, with bright eyes and red cheeks, shyly recounted the details of how she'd met her paramour of the summer, a recent graduate from Italy, taking time to recount his sea-foamy green eyes and dark curling hair. Even more exciting was to hear her cautious girl share memories of sneaking out after her aunt had gone to bed, to meet the young wizard in various spots around the city, of lingering snogs in the moonlight, and of the way he smelt of seasalt and cedarwood.

Elna teased that Fawn couldn't possibly remember how Marco - that was his name - had smelled so distinctly, turned and asked Hermione what Rodolphus smelled like. Hermione pushed down the knot that had formed in her throat and let her eyes close for a moment while she tried to think about her boyfriend. "Oranges and spice," she said finally, knowing that it was something so distinctly Rodolphus she'd never be able to forget it.

Elna rolled her eyes at the pair of them. "Oh, you both are so lovesick," she said with a wistful sigh, perhaps wishing for a grand romance of her own.

Lottie was quick to share with the group that her beau had formally asked her to marry him and that they planned on getting married the following spring once she'd graduated as well, something her parents were thrilled over. The rest of the train ride was spent tittering over all the wedding planning that they were going to have to do over the school term, wondering how they would manage to fit it all in on top of preparing for their NEWTs.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You guys are all so wonderful and kind to me, and it means a lot to have your support. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-six and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-seven soon!

* * *

December 1968

Without Rodolphus there, dogging her every step, returning to Hogwarts seemed entirely too empty. Of course it was wonderful to see her Gryffindor friends again, but most of the time Hermione just felt as if she was oscillating between missing her friends in her proper era and missing Rodolphus. Always out of place, it took her awhile to feel _normal_ again.

In the end, she found herself returning the familiar practice of throwing herself into her schoolwork. It _was_ her NEWT year, after all, and while Dumbledore had done nothing to answer any of her questions about his time turner research with the Ministry, Hermione had to do everything she could to secure a bright future for herself in _this_ time period. She spent the majority of her free time haunting the library, getting ahead on all the assignments she had for classes, taking on whatever extra credit her professors would give her.

Her friends seemed to understand her situation, being that she _was_ a muggleborn and didn't have a family to establish her in their society. She didn't particularly enjoy the social undercurrents that accompanied it, but at least it wasn't like Harry and Ron, nagging her to help with assignments that they had put off to practice Quidditch.

Still the winter holidays were very appreciated when they finally came, especially due to the fact that it would be the first time that she'd get to see Rodolphus in _months_. She wasn't even sure if they would be able to meet up, but she still told her Head of House that she would be returning home for the holidays, while telling Georgie that she was going to remain at Hogwarts. The sixth year had been skeptical, giving her a disbelieving look and one raised eyebrow, but hadn't argued with her about it.

But, she didn't actually hear from Rodolphus until Rabastan approached in the hallway one evening pressing a sealed note into her hands with a sneer. "Don't expect this to be a regular occurrence," he said with a sniff. "I refuse to act as an owl service, especially when I don't approve of my brother's chosen company."

Hermione was barely able to stop from snapping at the second year, but managed because she was so excited to see what Rodolphus had written to her _finally_. Rushing off to the nearest empty classroom, Hermione eagerly ripped open the note, finding details of how he'd rented a room for them at the Three Broomsticks.

Sighing happily, Hermione pressed the letter to her heart, leaning against the cool stone of the wall. After she knew what the plan was, she was too happy to pack up her trunk and follow the rest of the students down to the train station at Hogsmeade, before slipping away into the Three Broomsticks.

Madame Rosmerta gave her a raised eyebrow, but provided a key to Hermione without argument, watching as she happily bounded up the stairs.

Hermione was barely able to drop her trunk on the ground and shut the door behind her before Rodolphus was on her. One hand cradling her jaw and the other tangled up in her hair, he pulled her in for a searing kiss, seemingly intent on showing her exactly how much he had missed her in the months since they'd last been together. Lips, tongues and teeth pressed together, Hermione was helpless to do much more than grab his robes in great bunches, gasping into him when her back crashed against the door.

Gone was all of the shyness that she had in the beginning of their sexual relationship, far too eager to have him again to feel embarrassed. Fingers impatiently loosed the buttons holding his robes together, and then she was pressing him back, needing to find the bed because she wasn't sure how much longer her legs could support her, feeling her knees buckle when he tightened his grasp on her hair.

They tumbled back to the bed together, a desperate mess of limbs and loose clothing, before Rodolphus let her go long enough to get ahold of his wand, using a simple spell to release them of both of their clothing. Once they were free of all the obstacles between themselves, it did not take long for them to come together once again. She was throbbing with need, her body only too willing to accept him. Being so completely wrapped up in him felt like coming home, and Hermione felt as if her heart might beat right out of her chest.

Having been apart for so long, it was a matter of minutes before they were finishing together, moaning with one another to let the other know just how much they had liked it.

Rolling onto his back, Rodolphus pulled Hermione to wrap around him, his arm pulling her to rest her head on his chest. She threw a leg over his strong quads, knowing that she needed to clean up, but wanting to enjoy the come down in his arms. She listened to his heartbeat slow down, her fingers playing with the sparse amount of chest hair between his pecs. Rodolphus pressed a kiss to the top of her head, sighing. "I love you," he whispered into the sudden stillness of the room.

Hermione smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss of her own against his cooling chest. "I love you, too," she told him, honestly. This one moment made her heart feel like it was spilling over with love, making the long wait to see him all the more worth it.

His fingers traced up and down the length of her spine. "I've missed you. You have no idea how many times I thought about sneaking back into Hogwarts just to see you," he confessed. "My work is nearly unbearable without you to brighten my day."

"I wouldn't have objected," Hermione told him honestly, surprising even herself. It seemed reckless and silly to have him sneak into Hogwarts just to see her, not to mention _dangerous_, but she didn't care, not in the moment, not if it meant that she would have been able to spend a little time with her boyfriend. "I'm glad it's a NEWT year, otherwise I wouldn't have mountains of revision to distract myself from your absence. I'll confess, I find myself missing you bothering me in the library so often."

He chuckled, the rumble transmitted where her cheek pressed against him, making her smile as well. "Are you sure? There were times when you seemed ready to duel me to get me to leave you alone," he teased.

"That was only in the beginning," she answered. "When I couldn't understand why you would want to be around me at all."

"Why shouldn't I want to be around you?" he asked, sounding not in the least bit serious.

Swallowing thickly, Hermione figured that this was as good of a time as any to talk about the big roadblocks that were still hindering their relationship. "Well, aside from my bushy hair and the fact that your family _hates_ my kind and wishes they were eradicated from the wizarding world..." she trailed off, knowing that she'd sucked all the humor right out of the room. "There is the biggest reason of all."

"And what's that?" he murmured, stilled by the tone of her voice.

"The fact that you are engaged to another witch," Hermione said, hoping that she wouldn't cry in front of him. "And not just _any_ witch, but Bellatrix Black."

"I thought...I thought that I told you I would handle Bellatrix," he said, sitting up and pulling the covers of the bed with him. He was clearly growing more agitated, perhaps not expecting this type of conversation for their romantic getaway, but Hermione couldn't think of a better time to do it. Who knew if she would get to see him again before graduation? And after graduation...well, it might be too late.

"But...when were you planning on it?" she asked, sitting up and mirroring him, looking into his hurt, blue eyes. "Because, Bellatrix is very keen on breaking things off, and well, she...she sort of threatened me on the train ride to school. It seems like she is going to take things into her own hands, and that wouldn't be such a bother to _me_, but I think that it could end up being very serious for _you_," she explained, nibbling on her lower lip, unsure of what else to say.

"Take things into her own hands...how?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think of what Bellatrix's play might be.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure, but she said that it was up to me to get the engagement broken off, or else...well, she didn't specify, but I got the impression that...that it wouldn't be pleasant for either of us," she said, staring at her hands in her lap. "I just...don't want to underestimate her, because I know how _dangerous_ she is."

"Dangerous?" Rodolphus asked with a snort. "Bella might be rude and awfully spoiled, but I very much doubt that she is _dangerous_."

"I very much got the impression that Bellatrix was used to getting _exactly_ what she wanted, Dolph," Hermione protested, unable to share the details she knew about the witch from the future. "And that she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty if it meant her own desired outcome. _Please_, trust me on this. I'm worried about you."

"It's my father that I have to be worried about," he said seriously. "And I promised you I would handle him."

"I just...I wanted to be sure that you had all the pertinent information," Hermione explained, feeling a weight lift off of her chest now that she had shared Bellatrix's threats with him. Really, she'd been bearing that burden alone for far too long. "No need to be caught by surprise, and...well, it's not as if our relationship has gone unnoticed."

Rodolphus nodded. "You are right, of course," he agreed, looking up at her. "It's better to be over-prepared. And I've known that I will have to confront him eventually. I can't put it off forever, no matter how much I don't want have that conversation. But...I'm very serious about you, Hermione, and it's necessary if I want our relationship to continue in the direction it's going."

Hermione blushed brightly at the implication. The idea of being in an openly acknowledged relationship with Rodolphus had her heart beating double time in her chest. Just how serious was he, she wondered? Was there really some possible...alternate universe that she had created in which Rodolphus Lestrange might want to marry _her_? Godric, it was almost more than she dared dream.

"Enough about Bellatrix and my father," he said pulling her back to rest against the soft pillows that lined the bed. "I want to spend my limited time with you enjoying every minute of it. Tell me everything about school, because I am sure that it's going to be more interesting than _my_ work, and I will order up dinner for us."

She very much doubted that he was all that interested in school, but it was nice to talk to him a little bit about what she'd been studying and what she thought about doing once she'd sat her exams. From the face he made, she could tell that he was surprised that she would want to have some kind of gainful employment, but kept any negative remarks about it to himself.

Once two hot bowls of beef stew with mash were sent up to their room, the pair of teenagers sat next to the cheerful fire, enjoying the warmth. Hermione finally badgered Rodolphus enough to share the status of all the initiatives that he was working on at the moment, eager to add her opinions of each one.

They would spend the whole vacation tucked in their little room together, enjoying each other's company, save for the one night that Rodolphus had to return home for his father's Yule celebration. It was a welcome reprieve from the monotony of Hogwarts, and Hermione found herself wishing that they could spend everyday together like that. For once, she didn't let the negative voice in her head insist that this would all have to come to an end eventually.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Well, I bought a house - whew...that is a huge load of stress off my plate, once we officially close and move. I'll be excited to get my evenings and weekends back now that I am not going to so many showings. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-seven and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-eight soon!

* * *

**February 1969**

Hermione was both dreading the end of the school year and looking forward to it with something akin to hope. After her wonderful holiday romp with Rodolphus, she began to wonder about what her life might be like after schooling. She would get a job, of course, but would Rodolphus still be in it? He seemed to think that it was a real possibility, but she wasn't sure if she believed it yet, no matter how much she wanted to.

Her nearing exams did bring up the dragon in the room - the fact that she had been stuck in the wrong time for over a year and she _had_ made serious changes to the timeline. She had rapidly lost all faith in the Ministry and Headmaster Dumbledore. It seemed that they had absolutely no plan to get her back where she was supposed to be, and even if they somehow could, events were likely to have changed so much that she wasn't likely to recognize anything. In any case, it didn't seem like it was a _priority_ to those in charge.

So, she was surprised when Headmaster Dumbledore approached her one day, asking for her to meet with him after dinner. She agreed readily enough, curious to hear what it was that he had to say, even if the walk to the gargoyle that guarded his office was filled with dread that she might have to leave.

Dumbledore was out when she got there, so Hermione contented herself with looking out the large window at the back of his window, looking over the grounds. She thought about how long Hogwarts had been there, standing sentinel over the landscape, putting her momentary blip of life into perspective.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted when he finally stepped out of the fireplace, dusting off his robes. "Anything catch your eye? I've heard that the centaur herd is expecting foal soon."

Hermione shook her head, before coming around to sit in the chair across from him. "No," she answered, sadly. "Did you just return from the Ministry? Have they given you an update about my return to my correct time?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"I _was_ just at the Ministry, but unfortunately, they seem to be struggling, even though they have a whole wing of unspeakables investigating your situation. I wouldn't give up hope on your return yet, though," he updated her, being more forthcoming than he'd been in nearly a year. "But...what I wanted to talk to you about was something that is...not in the Ministry's purview," he explained, leaning his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers together.

_That_ had Hermione intrigued, and she wondered just what he was getting at. "Oh?"

"When you and I first met at the Ministry, you tried to explain things about a certain wizard called Voldemort," Dumbledore started cautiously, his blue eyes boring into her, making Hermione wonder if he would ever try to use Legilimency against her. If she remembered correctly, Dumbledore had suggested that Harry learn to shield his mind, but was not the person to teach him. Was Dumbledore capable of those abilities? "At the time, I didn't want to hear anything you had to say about the matter because I _was_ concerned about the timeline, but even know I have to face the fact that many aspects of your future are unlikely to remain untouched now that you have been residing here for so long."

"That's a conclusion I've come to myself," Hermione said, eyebrows furrowed together, remembering all the times that Dumbledore had told her to act like a normal teenagers and not concern herself with the timeline. If he was going to insinuate that she had done something _wrong_, she would be furious. "But also somewhat inevitable since I've been encouraged to mingle with people here."

Sensing that she was on the defensive, Dumbledore held up his hands. "I am not trying to accuse you of anything, Miss Granger. As you say, it is inevitable," he agreed. "Have you noticed anything that _might_ have changed?" he asked.

Hermione couldn't think of anything in the news that had changed overly much, having not learned much in detail about the time period before coming here. Instead, she noticed mostly social changes - like how she'd almost prevented Molly and Arthur from being together and forming their family. Or, perhaps more seriously, that she seemed to have broken up the future Lestranges. She very much doubted that Rodolphus had gone against his family in the future she'd come from. Blushing, she shrugged her shoulders. "Some things have changed, but they seem mostly confined to...romantic partnerships," she explained. "People who were married in my time might not be now..."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. "You speak of Mr. Lestrange."

There was no hiding the pinkness of her cheeks then, remembering all the whispered promises that Rodolphus had given her. "I very much doubt that he will end up with the woman he did in my timeline," she said, quietly. "How much his life path will deviate remains to be seen."

"It has been hard for you to know what is to become of your classmates," he said, sounding sad. "It's a burden that I cannot fully contemplate."

"No, you can't," she snapped back, remembering all the times that he told her to just live her life as normally as she could without really realizing what he was truly asking of her. But, she couldn't act as if she would have known what to do with herself...it wasn't as if she could have just hidden away for over sixteen months, could she? "But, I doubt that we are here to talk about my love life, Headmaster."

Dumbledore gave her a half smile, and shook his head. "No, I don't think that your entanglement with Mr. Lestrange will aid me in my plans," he admitted. "I am no longer concerned with changing the timeline, and I think now I would be inclined to listen to what you have to say about Voldemort."

His admission made her mouth taste sour, thinking about all the time that she had wasted, cloistered away in Hogwarts when she could have been trying to make meaningful changes, if only he hadn't prevented her from speaking. How many endless nights of agony would she have been saved, not worrying about her betrayal of Ron and dear, sweet Harry, if she'd been doing everything she could to make a better life for them. "Well, I can only tell you what I _know_," she said, letting some weight fall off her shoulders.

Dumbledore called for tea, and Hermione was glad to have it, knowing that it would take a long time to get everything she wanted out.

"Well, the first time around, Voldemort heard of a prophecy that a chosen one was being born who could stop him," she said, tugging at the sleeve of her jumper. "He took that to mean my friend, Harry Potter. He went after Harry when he was only one-year-old, on Halloween knight. He killed Harry's parents, but Harry's mother's love saved him. The Killing Curse rebounds from Harry and Voldemort is killed instead."

The other wizard looked surprised. "Well, it seems almost as if fate will have everything wrapped up for us," he said with a frown, still not understanding the larger picture.

Hermione shook her head. "No, unfortunately. He was not dead...not truly. A...a piece of his soul survived and by the time that Harry and I were first years, Voldemort was back, having attached himself to a willing host," she explained. "The host was killed and we thought he was dead, again, but we were wrong."

She could tell that Dumbledore was doubtful, but she was going to make him believe if she needed to. "The following year, we discovered that...a bit of Voldemort...or a shade of him, really, had survived in a diary that he kept from when he was a student here, called Tom Riddle," she explained. At telling him the name, Dumbledore appeared convinced, recognizing the person that Voldemort had once been. "He tried to possess another of our friends in the Chamber of Secrets, but Harry went after him and destroyed the Diary with a basilisk fang."

_That_ piece of information seemed to intrigue Dumbledore most of all. "A basilisk fang? A basilisk lives here in Hogwarts?" he pressed.

"Yes, and I can show you where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is, too," she told him, glad that _someone_ was finally taking an interest in what she had to say. It always seemed as if Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had never taken her, Harry and Ron seriously when they tried to talk about Voldemort.

Hermione skipped over third year, hoping that Sirius would never even _need_ to escape Azkaban if she was about to help it, but told him about the Tri-Wizard tournament in fourth year. "According to Harry, one of Voldemort's servants performed a sort of ritual, using Harry's blood and...he was able to emerge as a horrible, snake-faced man with white skin, from the cauldron," she described. She hadn't been there, of course, but Harry had told her about the experience in the graveyard in whispers in front of the big fireplace in the Gryffindor common room when he hadn't been able to sleep.

"And then, in fifth year...Voldemort wanted the full prophecy from the Department of Mysteries and lured us, and Harry there...you see, Harry could sometimes find himself _in_ Voldemort's mind, through his scar...anyway, he was there, waiting for us with his Death Eaters. We were trying to fight, but that was when I found myself pushed into the time turners by Rabastan Le-"

She cut herself off, never really having thought about the fact that the little twerp who'd sneered at her constantly, even when giving her little notes from his brother, was the one who'd pushed her. Did he recognize her, she wondered? Was there some kind of time loop.

Sensing her unease, Dumbledore cleared his throat. Gathering up their now empty tea cups, he addressed her. "Thank you for all your information, Miss Granger. You have certainly given me a lot to think about, more than I ever imagined," he revealed. "If I may, may I ask on you again should I need any further clarification?"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Of course, just...please keep me in the loop, Professor," she said. "I'm just as involved in this mess as anyone else is, and I won't let you push me out just because you think it's protecting me." She was not entirely sure if that would be convincing to him, but she had to at least ask.

Once she was released from the Headmaster's office, she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, only to be disappointed when she found that her roommates were all out for the evening. It seemed that Valentine's day had creeped up on her without realizing it, and all of the girls had dates. Before she could be too upset at realizing she'd spent the day alone, without a word from her boyfriend, she was delighted to find an owl waiting for her on her bed.

Inside, there was a note from Rodolphus. She savored every word that he had written - about twice a week since Christmas - and placed all his handwritten notes into a neat pile at the bottom of her trunk. But this note included a little something extra for her inside - a simple pair of gold stud earrings that she eagerly put on.

Sinking back into her pillows, she read over what he'd written her this time, feeling her heart stutter in her chest at his promises of how they would be together again soon, asking for her to send all the remaining Hogsmeade days so that he might sneak off into the village to see her sooner than at the end of June.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows, especially after the long wait! I won't bore you with all the details of my brief hiatus, but I did have my baby daughter :) We are working on getting a new routine while I am still on maternity leave for a few weeks, but hopefully we can get a few updates in here. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-eight and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-nine soon!

* * *

April 1969

Hermione's fingers grabbed at the gold earring she was wearing, turning the post in her earlobe again and again, her mind occupied. For the past seven weeks she had been looking forward to this day, ever since she had sent Rodolphus her remaining Hogsmeade weekends. Unfortunately, he had not been able to come down to the village in March because Pucey was getting married and had organized a stag week in Greece that Rodolphus was obliged to attend, which left only the April weekend for him to visit.

After that, she would be up to her eyebrows in NEWT preparation, and even if there was a weekend in May, she doubted that even the temptation of seeing Rodolphus could pull her away from her studies. Even though she hadn't given up hope of returning to her own time, Hermione wasn't going to let her job prospects suffer on the chance that she would remain here for longer.

Not to mention after speaking with Headmaster Dumbledore and telling him everything she knew about Voldemort, she had no idea what kind of future she would even be returning to. Who knew what kind of witch Hermione Granger would be if Harry Potter was no longer the boy who lived. The thoughts of the ripple effects made her brain itch.

The Headmaster's sudden interest in Voldemort - and presumably, his desire to actually _do_ something about it before Harry's parents, and all his other victims had to die - created a tantalizing prospect for her that she tried not to get too caught up thinking about. Perhaps Dumbledore's interference would build an environment where Rodolphus Lestrange did not become a Death Eater...a world where they could be together.

Her friends suddenly standing up from the Gryffindor table brought Hermione back down from her thoughts. Looking at her plate, she realized that she had barely eaten breakfast, too excited at the idea of sneaking away into one of the rented rooms above the Three Broomsticks, spending the afternoon with Rodolphus.

"Are you going to come back to the Common Room with us, Hermione?" Fawn asked gently, even though she knew that Hermione had woken up early to prepare.

Hermione blushed, shaking her head, knowing that she would need to leave for the village shortly if she wanted her activities to go unnoticed. "Um, no," she said, hoping that Lottie and Elna wouldn't press her for an explanation. "I'll see you guys at dinner," she offered instead, standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder, before she turned and made her way from the Great Hall as quickly as possible.

It was so early that the carriages that normally would take you down to Hogsmeade weren't out yet, but Hermione was perfectly happy to walk, despite the spitting rain that threatened to chill her to the bone. Nothing that an impervious spell couldn't help with though. She enjoyed the sound of the gravel under her feet, each step bringing her closer to Rodolphus.

There was no one inside the Three Broomsticks when she entered, save for the pretty barmaid. Madame Rosmerta was decidedly _not_ surprised to see Hermione walk in the door, immediately reaching under the counter to grab her a key. Handing it over, she gave the younger witch a smirk. "He's been waiting for you since last night," she teased.

Bounding up the stairs two at a time, Hermione found the rented room easily enough. Opening the door, she was surprised when Rodolphus was not on her in an instant. Instead, he was lying in rumpled sheets on the bed, eyes bleary with sleep. "Hermione?" he asked, pulling himself to sit up. "What time is it?"

"Just after nine," she answered, hoping that he wasn't too annoyed that she'd interrupted his lie in. "I wanted to spend as much time as possible with you."

He grinned, peeling the covers back and scooting over to give her a spot next to him. Kicking off her shoes, Hermione climbed in, eager to warm up a bit after the cold walk over. Rodolphus pulled her back to his bare chest, tucking her head under his chin and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Just a few more minutes," he begged, his voice rough with sleep.

She did not need convincing, feeling the heat of his body lulling her to sleep.

It was sometime later when she woke up, Rodolphus's hands having slipped under her jumper sliding over her skin in a gentle massage, slowly working their way up to cup her breasts. She grinned, before rolling over to look at him.

"What time is it now?" she asked with a small yawn.

"Just after ten," Rodolphus answered her, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I hope you don't mind that we napped. I don't want you to feel like I've wasted time with you, but it's so much easier to sleep when you're with me."

Flattered, Hermione leaned up to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. "I don't mind at all. I just wanted to be with you," she answered, before biting her lip before she said something stupid about wishing that they lived together after she was done with school. Who knew what would happen and she didn't want to jinx it by saying something out loud. With luck, Rodolphus would offer them to move in together once she got her NEWT results, and she'd happily agree. However, she knew that it was likely that something would happen with his betrothal or her going back to her proper time.

Pushing the dark thoughts from her mind, Hermione initiated a kiss with Rodolphus, her fingers finding the hair at the nape of his neck. She could hear him make a rumble of pleasure at the turn of events, and deepened the kiss until she could think of nothing but the way it felt to be pressed up against Rodolphus, and how long it had last been since she was under him.

It was not long before the dam broke, four months being too long for Rodolphus as well. Before she knew it, he was pushing her jumper up over her head, finding the zip on the back of her skirt, and striping her down until she had nothing but her knickers on. She had significantly less work to do, seeing as he'd been dressed for sleep, and eagerly pushing his pajama pants down his legs, before perching herself on top of him.

Hermione felt powerful on top of him and pressed her hands against his wrists, holding him down, though it would be easy for him to escape if he'd wanted to. Leaning her head down, she kissed down his jaw to his neck, sucking against his salty skin, needing to leave a mark of her own on his body. She delighted in the way his hips bucked into her body, unbidden, as though he truly could not help himself around her. In turn, she rocked back and forth against him, moaning at the slickness between her legs against the fabric of her knickers. Oh Godric, how she wished that there was nothing between them in that moment and she might rise up, only to take him inside of her body.

She wouldn't be surprised if Rodolphus was a legilimens, because in the next moment, he was breaking free of her loose hold, pressing his hands against her hips, and working to liberate her from the last bit of clothing between them. Hermione moaned, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, when she felt the two of them joined together, pressing down until they were completely one. Rodolphus must have enjoyed the position as well, because he made no move to flip them, content to let her set the pace.

His hands remained in their place at her hips, assisting her in finding a rhythm, and then squeezing her gently when she moved in a way that he particularly liked. Pulling herself up, Hermione found his lips again easily enough, enjoying the way that his tongue pressed against hers, not in a battle for dominance, but in a slow dance.

Before long, Hermione was pulling back to gain more control over her movements, finding that she was so close to finding that spectacular peak. Looking down at her lover with half lidded eyes, Hermione felt sexy and pleased with herself when she saw Rodolphus staring up at her naked body, blue eyes filled with awe and reverence and love. It did not take long before she was coming, head thrown back in relief, sighing his name in delight. Rodolphus was not far behind her, his hands holding her hips in place while his movements grew uncoordinated, until he was finished.

She collapsed against his body, uncaring that they were both hot, delighting in the way that his arms came to wrap around her. They stayed that way, in silence, until Rodolphus's rapidly beating heart returned to its normal rhythm.

"Mm, I could lie here like this all day," she said to him, knowing that it was the truth, even though she could already feel her hips beginning to ache from the awkward position she was now in.

"I'd like that as well." Hermione could feel his voice more than hear it. "But, I'm afraid I might starve to death if I don't eat something now."

Hermione's stomach growled in response to his suggestion of food. "Let's order down from the kitchen," she suggested. "I found that I didn't have much of an appetite this morning, myself, and missed breakfast."

Rodolphus chuckled, before helping her sit up. "I wonder why that was," he teased.

Hermione stood up from the bed, finding her knickers before slipping them up her legs, finding them just a bit wobbly. Her jumper was next, and she pulled it over her head, glad for the bit of warmth and coverage.

"Don't get completely dressed," Rodolphus begged. "I'm certainly not done with you, and I'd like to save as much time undressing you as possible." He replaced his own pajama pants, barely giving her a chance to appreciate his strong legs and backside. "If you are up for it, I was thinking that I might like to have you in the bath next, once I regain my strength that is."

She flushed, looking into the open bathroom where an impressive looking tub stood. "I could be convinced," she agreed, thinking that a soak in the warm water might be nice, especially if Rodolphus was there as well. Would the two of them be able to fit, though?

Rodolphus called for a house elf and made an order to have their lunch set up, before he relit the fire in the hearth, helping to give the room a bit of warmth. He sat down heavily into the threadbare looking couch next to the fireplace, before patting the spot next to him.

Hermione snuggled up beside him, before conjuring a blanket to cover them both up. His fingers ran through her wild hair and for a moment they sat together in silence, listening to the light rain on the roof of the pub.

"Tell me how your studies are going," he encouraged, knowing that she was nearing the biggest exam of her life. "You are making sure not to spend _all_ of your time in the library, right?"

"Not all my time, no, but probably more than I should," she answered with a sigh, before telling him about all the NEWTs that she was planning on taking, and elaborating on her hopes and fears, and the persistent dream that she'd had since she was a first year that she would fail all of her exams. It felt good to talk about something so familiar with him.

In turn, Rodolphus told her about his time at the Ministry, filled with all the research that he insisted was boring, even though it was clear that he was beginning to find it more enjoyable, not that he knew a bit more about how everything worked.

They whiled away the rest of their time before lunch was delivered catching up, both obviously genuinely interested in what the other was doing, wanting to make up for lost time. Hermione tried not to get too far ahead of herself, thinking how nice it would be to do the same thing every night when they returned from their respective jobs to their flat, before slipping off into bed together.

It was a possibility too sweet to get her hopes up about.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I hope that you enjoy this chapter - it's from a different POV! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-nine and be on the lookout for chapter thirty soon!

* * *

May 1969

The wild-haired witch scowled at the note in front of her, shoving her fingers into her black curls, barely able to resist the urge to pull at the strands. With a dark look on her face, she stared across the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, where that mudblood sat, with her nose shoved so far into a potions book, it was a miracle that she was even able to walk anywhere.

What in Salazar's name was wrong with the mudblood, Bellatrix wondered?

Bellatrix had thought that she would be easy to manipulate into doing exactly what she wanted, but Hermione Granger had been resistant from the beginning. A little flattery here, some lies about how she and Rodolphus were star-crossed lovers, she was certain that the mudblood would have folded at _some _point in the two years she'd known Rodolphus. After all, Rodolphus _was_ a good looking wizard and a pureblood to boot - what wasn't to like?

For someone other than her, that is...Bellatrix wouldn't touch that idiotic jock with a ten foot broom even if his father was highly regarded by the Dark Lord.

Why couldn't her dumb father see that Bellatrix was clearly destined for bigger and better men? She'd known it, felt it in her magical core from the first moment that she met the Dark Lord at her grandfather's Yule party in her fifth year. The way that he spoke, the way that he looked, Bellatrix knew right then and there that she would never accept anyone but him.

And the Dark Lord had noticed her as well. He'd laughed with her by the fireplace, sipping brandy, and told her about how he knew that she was a special witch, and he knew that she would do great things if she only just followed his path, followed his instructions. She was ready to take the Dark Mark then and there, just like her father had, but the Dark Lord had simply laughed and laughed, and praised her eagerness, and promised that he would mark her the moment that she graduated Hogwarts if that was what she wanted. He told her he would make her the first female Death Eater.

But Bellatrix just _knew_ that she would never get such an honor if she had to marry Rodolphus Lestrange, no matter who his father was! She would be expected to pop out babies and keep their home and participate in society garbage like her mum did. And there was no way that Rodolphus would see the Dark Lord's cause as the necessity it was, not now that he was _such_ a muggle lover!

She was tempted to stomp her feet in frustration. Couldn't her parents see what a terrible mistake that they were making? Didn't they hear the disgusting rumors that Rodolphus was fucking a mudblood in his family's home in Paris? Surely that would have been enough for them to break off the betrothal.

Apparently not, based on this utter _drivel_ that her mother had sent to her that morning. Leave it to Druella to focus on place settings and guest lists and flower colors and robe fittings. Bellatrix would never consent to even stepping into Madame Malkins to let her mother dress her up in silk and lace, trussed up like a Yule turkey only to be given to that _imbecile _Rodolphus Lestrange to languish for the rest of her life.

No - she would not! And if her father made her, well...she _had_ been practicing her unforgivables, and she would see to it that Rodolphus wouldn't be around for long. But then...what was to stop them from marrying her off again. Edmond Lestrange could always insist on marrying her to Rabastan. And, while Rabastan certainly was a _better_ pureblood than his older brother was, there was no way that she was going to marry a twelve year old little twerp.

She was broken out of her homicidal musings by someone clearing their throat. Looking up from her mother's flowery handwriting, Bellatrix say Narcissa sitting across the table from her. She wondered how long her little sister had been sitting there, patiently waiting to be noticed. Narcissa would wait forever, if that was what was expected of her.

"What do you want, Cissa?" Bellatrix snarled, not caring if she hurt her little sister's feelings.

Narcissa's corn silk blonde hair was delicately curled in at the ends, with a big black bow that matched her uniform perfectly. "_Someone_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Narcissa countered, sniffing to show her disapproval. "Anyway, mother wrote to me and said that you still hadn't selected colors for your wedding ceremony to Rodolphus, and well, I just wanted to know if you had any thoughts about what you would be choosing, because, after all, I'll be your maid of honor, right? And I just want to make sure that my robes will flatter me because I want to make sure that Lucius will think that I look beautiful-"

"Cissa, shut _up_ with your vapid, insignificant little worries about Lucius bloody Malfoy," Bellatrix snarled, her dark eyes snapping to where that little _worm_ was sitting, laughing with his friends. "If Lucius Malfoy doesn't think you are beautiful all the time than you should destroy him."

"Bella! You shouldn't talk about him like that," Narcissa gasped, clearly aghast. "He's going to be your brother-in-law soon."

"Well, _you_ should remember that you are a Black, and you are the prize," she answered, rolling her eyes. "The Black family is far more important than some silly little Malfoy, whose family has only just gotten an ounce of political power in the last fifty years."

Narcissa blushed under her sister's admonishment. "I know, Bella, I just..I really like Lucius," the fourth year answered, her face going a little bit dopey when she thought of her betrothed. "And, come on, can't you just pick green and be done with it so I can start looking for robes. There's only less than two months left before your wedding."

"There isn't going to be a wedding, Cissa," Bellatrix answered, feeling her rage bubble up once again when she thought of her short sided parents. "Or if there is, it certainly _won't_ be to Bellatrix Lestrange."

"But Bella - mother _said_," Narcissa tried to argue back, only to be cut off once again.

Bellatrix growled in annoyance, before setting the letter from her mother alight. "I don't _care_ what mother says, Narcissa," she argued back, her chin gutting out in defiance. "I am _not _marrying that oaf Rodolphus Lestrange, and I won't hear another word about it, understood?"

"Ahem - Miss Black?" Professor Slughorn's voice boomed. "I think you know as well as I that using an _incendio_ at the breakfast table is not acceptable."

Putting on a fake smile, her dimple showing in one cheek, she agreed effusively with her Head of House. "Of course, Professor Slughorn, my apologies," she told him. "My emotions just got away from me for a moment...you see I got some unhappy news about my upcoming nuptials from my mother today," she lied.

Slughorn's face lit up at the mention of her betrothal to Rodolphus, perhaps _still_ hoping for an invitation to the event, a joining of two influential families. "Of course, Miss Black. Perfectly understandable. It's a big day for you."

"Actually, I was wondering if I could make a floo call in your office, Professor? I am sure that a quick chat with my father will get this _all_ sorted out," she said sweetly, twisting her fingers together. Narcissa started to pipe up, but Bellatrix stomped on her foot under the table. "I promise that I will be quick."

"Certainly, I was just about to return there now!" Slughorn said, his jolly voice booming down the table, gathering unwanted attention.

Bellatrix practically leapt up from the table, following the portly man back down to the dungeons, pointedly ignoring small talk that he was making, chattering away the whole time, not even bothering to see that his student was utterly bored.

When they got back to his office, he handed her a jar with some floo powder, before sending his wand at the hearth, a fire immediately starting. Slughorn made no move to leave the office, though.

"Um, Professor, would you mind if...well, could I please have some privacy when I speak with my father?" she asked. He looked somewhat uncomfortable with her request. "I promise it will only take a few minutes and I will come get you the minute I'm done."

Slughorn laughed. "Of course, Miss Black," he agreed eventually, only to leave the office.

It did not take long for the image of her father to come into the green flames. "Bellatrix? What an _unexpected_ surprise to hear from you today. Did you get your mother's letter?" he asked.

"Yes, I did get mother's letter," Bella answered tartly.

"Good," her father said, smiling broadly. "Are you ready to put some effort into your wedding now? We have a lot of decisions that need to be made and not a lot of time to make them happen. Money can do a lot of things, Bella, but it can't do _everything._"

"No, daddy," she said with a frown. "I'm not going to be getting married to Rodolphus."

"Bellatrix, you are acting spoiled. I really expected better of you, especially after what happened with your sister," Cygnus snarled, clearly angry. "First Andromeda with that _filthy_ muggle, and now you with this fit of pique over a perfectly good husband that I found you. Is Narcissa the only one of you three willing to do what's right for this family?"

"Don't compare me to Andy, daddy!" Bellatrix complained, feeling tears come to the edges of her eyes. _As if_ she would dishonor her family the way that her sister had. "I'm trying to not make the same sort of mistake that she did."

"What on Earth are you talking about, Bella?" he questioned. "The Lestranges are a perfectly respectable family, and I won't hear you talk about them that way."

"But daddy, I've...I've been hoping that it wouldn't come to this," she said looking down into her lap. "I was hoping that I wouldn't have to tattle on Rodolphus, and what he was getting up to...I had hoped that you or his father would see what he was doing and would make the right choice, but...but I can't throw my life away on someone like him."

"What do you mean?" her father said, his face suddenly serious.

"I mean that...Rodolphus has been dating a mudblood here at Hogwarts. They go out in public all the time, not caring who sees them together, not caring that it dishonors _me_...he even took her to France last summer," Bellatrix said, letting her angry tears pour down her face. "And well, I don't know how to say this delicately, daddy, but I think it's no secret that he's...that he's had _relations_ with her."

The thunderous look on Cygnus's face was _exactly_ what Bellatrix had wanted. "Who else knows about this?"

"It seems like an open secret here at Hogwarts, daddy, and well...I thought that other society people knew about it, too," she answered honestly. "I had hoped that it would get back to his father and he would do the right thing and dissolve the betrothal, but daddy, please don't make me marry him. I couldn't bear the thought of letting the same hands that had touched a mudblood touch me, too."

She could see the muscles in his jaw working, trying to get ahold of his anger. "Tell me, Bella, what is this mudblood's name?" he asked. "I need to look into it, but I promise if it's true, you won't even have to look at Rodolphus Lestrange ever again."

"I knew you'd see it how I see it, daddy," she said brightly, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "The mudblood's name is Hermione Granger. And I think she's been living with the Weasleys."


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Trouble is definitely brewing for Hermione! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought about chapter thirty and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-one soon!

* * *

June 1969

The rest of the school year seemed to zip by in the blink of an eye. Before Hermione knew it, it was time for her to take her NEWTs. She had the unusual experience of feeling extraordinarily prepared for the exams, while at the same time being incredibly nervous about how she was going to do. She _tried_ to tell herself that she had studied and revised all school year for this, and she couldn't do anything else at this point, but that didn't comfort her as much as it should have.

It felt even weirder to know that she was doing it without Harry and Ron by her side. She wondered what things were like in the future for what seemed like the millionth time. Had they been looking for her? Did they wonder what happened to Hermione Granger who just up and vanished? Were they taking their own NEWTs or out fighting in a war to stop Voldemort? Or, had she made so many changes thus far that Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley weren't even really aware of her?

She couldn't allow herself to think on those thoughts for too long, though, if she didn't want melancholy to completely take over her. No, it was better to focus on her current situation.

Rodolphus had not been able to visit her again, and his notes had been few and far between over the month of May and into June. She tried not to be too hurt by it, knowing that he was surely busy helping Alfred Nott with some legislation, knee deep in research that he claimed to hate, but secretly loved. He had his own things to worry about and she was sure that she wouldn't have been so busy herself that it likely wouldn't have been worth it anyway.

On the first day of her examinations, Hermione woke up with her stomach roiling away. She hadn't been so nervous that she was nauseous since she'd been in third year, but she found that a bit of dry toast settled her stomach enough for her to eat some oatmeal. It wouldn't do to be distracted by hunger for her first exam, especially considering that it was the one that she was most nervous about.

It seemed as if Rodolphus must have remembered that it was likely to be her most difficult exam, because halfway through breakfast, an owl delivered a quick note from him. Scrawled on a strip of paper, in his perfect handwriting, was a few words of encouragement that had Hermione's heart skipping a beat at the thought that he had _remembered_. "I know you will do great on your Defense Against the Dark Arts NEWT today. The written portion was easier to tackle than I guessed," he promised. "And with how good you do in the morning, Charms in the afternoon will be even easier."

He was right - the Defense Against the Dark Arts theoretical portion _was_ easier than she expected, and she was feeling so confident that she was sure she aced the practical portion as well. Hermione was probably most comfortable with Charms, and as predicted, she breezed right through it.

The following day, she had her Potions NEWT, which was slated to take the full day. She started the day similarly nervous. The exam room was hot, leaving her flushed and her hair frizzy, with the heat from all the cauldrons going, but the kind words she'd received from her boyfriend that morning helped her power through it. "I don't know any non-Slytherin who is better at potions than you. X."

Midway through the week, she had just a Herbology examination in the afternoon, so she spent the morning holed up in the library, trying to review all the material that she'd still be tested on later in the week. She was disappointed that she did not receive a note from Rodolphus that morning, as she'd come to look forward to his words of encouragement. But then, she was all the more delighted to get the note that he sent her over dinner time, once she'd completed Herbology. It had been a truly nastily exhausting ordeal, keeping her up to her elbows in dirt for nearly three hours. "Over halfway through with your NEWTs, darling. Salazar - I can't believe you are seriously taking seven NEWTS. You are far smarter than I deserve."

Hermione knew that the next day would be grueling, as she had her Arithmancy and Ancient Runes exams back to back, and those were easily her most taxing subjects. She was likely going to have to use every minute of time that she was permitted so complete all the various calculations and translations that were necessary. However, the two subjects were also perhaps her favorite subjects, so she was feeling cautiously confident after how well everything had gone thus far.

Rodolphus sent another note that morning. "Do I even need to keep telling you how brilliant you will do at this point? I'm sure you know as well as I that you are doing wonderfully at your exams. X."

That had brought a smile to her face, knowing that the young man had such confidence in her abilities. She did not really share his level of surety, but it was nice to know that he did. The day was long and by the evening her fingers were aching from how much she'd had to write, but she was feeling much lighter when she finally fell back into her bed in Gryffindor tower, exhausted.

"Last exam _ever_!" Rodolphus had scribbled on his final note of encouragement when she woke up on her fifth and final day of examinations. "Somehow, I know you won't find that to be as big of a relief as I do. If anyone can get an O in Transfiguration, it's Hermione Granger."

Hermione hadn't been able to keep the smile off of her face, knowing that when it came down to it, she _did_ enjoy exams. Or, at least, she enjoyed doing well on things, clear evidence that she was smart and...well, it embarrassed her to think it, but that she had done _better_ than other people. Minerva McGonagall was no less strict in the late 60s than she was in the 90s, and Hermione felt extraordinarily prepared by her professor for the exam, but it still didn't stop that sick feeling from settling in her stomach once again, lingering even once she'd completed the written portion of her exam. The practical was easier than the written portion, and Hermione was able to end her NEWT exams on a high note, knowing that she'd at least passed that.

Then, she was left to fret, worrying over her results, knowing that she would only grow more and more unsure of herself until they were delivered.

Her girlfriends must have noticed her souring mood because that evening they refused to let her leave their shared room, passing around a bottle of firewhiskey between the four of them, ready to let off a little steam on their last night in the school. Lottie was due to get married at the end of summer and was planning on being a house witch now that she was leaving school. Fawn was planning on returning to Switzerland with her aunt, working as a sort of secretary for her until she could find a suitor of her own. Hermione privately thought that she hadn't lost touch with her Italian beau, and was certain that a marriage would not be far off for the shy witch.

Elna was the only of her trio of friends who planned on working after school. She'd gotten an offer to work in the Ministry as a reviewer of ludicrous patents, which Hermione thought would be interesting. Hermione was embarrassed to say that she hadn't thought much about what she would do now that she was leaving school, seeing as her future was as of yet so uncertain. If she had an uncomplicated life, she thought she might like to complete a Mastery, but she told her friends that she was still exploring her options, with a bright blush on her cheeks.

It didn't help that the MInistry would not come knocking her door down seeing as she was a muggleborn, and the political atmosphere was really quite tense at the moment. Still, she knew that that was little more than a convenient excuse when she hadn't actually applied anywhere.

The following morning, the girls passed a hangover potion between the three of them while they packed up their school trunks for the last time. The carriage ride down to the train station was full of a painful sort of nostalgia for Hermione when she again remembered how out of place she was. Still, she tried to shake off the bad feeling that filled her while they giggled and laughed on their way back to Kings Cross.

"Are you really going back to the Weasleys?" Fawn asked her, thinking her situation was rather odd.

Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes, but it is only for a week or two while Headmaster Dumbledore helps me find a flat," she told them, wishing that she would have approached him earlier in the year, or better yet, worked up the courage to ask Rodolphus to let her stay with him for a while. "I'm so grateful to the Weasleys. I know it can't be easy to have an extra person at their house for as long as I've been there."

"I'm sure they didn't mind too much," Elna insisted. "Arthur probably loved it while it lasted, even though Molly Prewett got him in the end."

She tried to remain charitable, but she was sure that Elna was right, even if she was teasing. "I'm just glad that they are together. I'm sure that they will make each other very happy," Hermione said, knowing exactly what the future had in store for the young couple.

They pulled into the train station far too early for Hermione's liking, and before she knew it, she was shrinking her trunk - finally permitted to do magic outside of school - and making her way off the train, giving Lottie, Elna and Fawn big hugs with promises to write and maybe even get tea someday soon.

When she stepped out onto the platform, she immediately began looking for any sign of Georgie among all the students pouring off of the train. Instead, she was unlucky enough to make eye contact with the last person she wanted to - Bellatrix Black. The Slytherin witch sauntered over to her with purpose, a devious little smirk on her face. "Well, mudblood, I can't say that I didn't warn you," she said with a laugh. "If you didn't handle it, I would. And well...I did handle it. Rodolphus and I aren't going to be betrothed for much longer, so there is _nothing_ standing in your way now."

"What do you mean you handled it?" Hermione asked, feeling her stomach knot in nerves, faced with the most concrete evidence yet that she had made changes.

"Oh, you'll see," Bellatrix promised, her smile growing wider, showing off her crooked teeth, and for a moment, Hermione could see a shade of the witch she'd known from the future. "Goodbye, mudblood."

Hermione turned and watched her walk away, reuniting with her family. Even more unsettling was feeling the gaze of Cygnus Black on her, anger glowing in his dark eyes. She swallowed thickly, wondering just what Bellatrix had meant, and hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't find out.

"Bunny, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Cedrella asked loudly, Georgie behind her.

The younger witch just shook her head, unsure of what to say. "Uh, it's just hitting me now...that I'm really done with school now," she lied, knowing that it would be impossible for her to tell Mrs. Weasley the truth.

"Oh," Cedrella said simply. "Well, let's get home to celebrate! I'll make cocktails!"


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I've been anticipating this one basically from the beginning, so I can't wait to hear what you think about it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-one and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-two soon!

* * *

June 1969

Once Hermione was back at the Weasleys, she was pleased that it didn't actually take Rodolphus too long to reach out to her. Hermione had spent one week picking Will, Septimus and Cedrella's brains, trying to determine a place where she could find gainful employment to no avail when she finally got an owl from her boyfriend, inviting her to come over to her place for dinner and drinks.

"Is that from the lovely St. Clair girl?" Cedrella asked, not trying to hide her nosiness one bit. "I saw her engagement announcement in the Daily Prophet back in April! What a gorgeous ring she has. Oh, her mother is so _lucky_ to know that her child is making the right sort of match," she added, a dark look on her face.

It seemed that while Hermione was gone at Hogwarts, Arthur had moved out of the family home, having purchased a little cottage with the intention of saving up to ask his long time girlfriend, Molly Prewett, to marry him. Cedrella was less than pleased that her son was so serious about the witch, frequently complaining that he was making a horrible choice, throwing his life away on a Prewett.

"No actually, it's from Fawn...Fawn Faucett," Hermione lied, trying not to feel too guilty for fibbing about Rodolphus again to the Weasleys. "She is moving to Switzerland and has invited me over before she leaves tonight."

"Switzerland, how unusual," Cedrella said, eyebrows raising.

"Yes, she has an Aunt there, apparently," Hermione explained. "She is going to be a secretary of sorts."

"You know, I could set you up with someone in the Wizengamot if _you_ wanted to be a secretary," Septimus said, sounding magnanimous. "I am sure that they would be very pleased with your work, especially with the number of NEWTs you attempted."

Hermione had to bite the side of her mouth to keep from snapping back at him. She didn't want to offend Septimus by suggesting that secretarial work was beneath her, but she couldn't imagine doing something like setting up appointments for an old, prejudiced wizard. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind," she said, only to stand up from the table. "Well, I better go get ready to see Fawn."

After getting ready in record time, Hermione apparated to Diagon Alley before making the short walk over to Rodolphus's flat. The summer air was warm and humid, signalling an incoming thunderstorm, but it was still pleasant for her to walk on her own. She knew the way to his flat by heart, and she was bounding up the stairs by the time that the first raindrops started to fall.

She was barely able to knock on the door before it was being swung wide open and Rodolphus was wrapping her up in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I've missed you so much," he said, his tone sincere. He shut the door behind him, and for once did not press her against the first flat surface he could find. While it was nice to know that he was normally so insatiable for her, it was also nice to have a moment for him to appreciate _her_ and not just her body.

"I missed you, too," Hermione told him, her eyes softening when she looked at him, all dark hair and intense blue eyes. "These last two months somehow felt even longer than all the months before."

"Let's go sit down. I want to hear about how your exams went," he said, leading her by her hand to the living room, where he had champagne and a cheese board out that his house elf had undoubtedly helped him with. "Tell me everything."

"Do you really want to know _everything_?" she quipped.

"You know that I never want to think about exams ever again," he told her honestly. "But I know how important they were to you, so that means I want to know everything."

It was touching to know that he would show interest in something that was undoubtedly boring for him to rehash, but she told him about all the ups and downs of her exams, and how she was utterly dying waiting to get her results. She also added that she hoped scoring well would make potential employers take her more seriously when she was looking for jobs. "Thank you for the notes - I'm not sure how I would have been able to get through it without you," she told him.

"And now that you are done with school, have you thought about what you might do?" he asked.

"Well, I am back at the Weasleys," Hermione said, grabbing a glass of champagne for a bit of liquid courage. "Just until I can find more permanent accommodations. Dumbledore offered to help me. Unless..." she trailed off, _wishing_ that she wasn't going to have to come out and just say it, _wishing_ that Rodolphus would just offer for her to move in with him now.

"Unless?" he prompted.

Hermione wondered if he was just clueless about what she was hinting at, or if it was a sign that he didn't _want _to ask her to move in. Was he really so old fashioned that perhaps living in sin with a muggleborn was just not something he could abide by?

"Unless there was...somewhere else that I could move in?" she asked, finally making eye contact with him again, hoping that she didn't look too much like a sad little puppy.

Before Rodolphus could answer her query, though, his fireplace was flaring a brilliant green and a wizard was stepping out in a full set of robes. Hermione immediately recognized him as Edmond Lestrange, Rodolphus's father. He was an imposing man in general, but now he had a fury in his eyes that she'd never seen before and it was enough to have her drawing her wand in fear.

"So it's actually true," he snarled, taking one look at Hermione, before crossing the room and picking his son up by the shoulders. "I swore to Cygnus Black that there was no way _my_ son was making a mockery of our family name, running all over with a mudblood slut, but I see now that I was terribly mistaken."

"Father," Rodolphus said, working his way to get free. Once he was out of the other man's grasp, he stared down at his feet in apparent shame, doing nothing to correct the horrible way that he was talking about her.

"And even worse, you had Rabastan acting as a little errand boy, running notes to _this_ woman. Do you even understand the harm that you've done?" Edmond questioned harshly. "Black wants to end the betrothal to his daughter, and quite frankly, I don't blame him. How could he give her to you when you've sullied yourself with this filth."

Tears sprang up in Hermione's eyes. Of course, she knew that this was what Rodolphus's family thought of her, but it was another thing to hear the abuse hurled directly to her face. Even worse, Rodolphus was just standing there, not contesting anything his father was saying. Her boyfriend was just crumbling under the _shame_ of being caught with her.

"This ends now," Edmond commanded with finality. "Get her out of here, and I swear if I ever hear of her being in another Lestrange property, I will make you watch when I kill her."

Rodolphus turned to look at her, his cheeks red and his eyes looking guilty.

"Rodolphus?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat. He'd _promised_ her that he was going to finally stand up to his father for her, to tell him about their relationship. But it seemed like he had kept the wool over his father's eyes, ensuring that there was no avenue for them to be together, not really.

And then, Hermione was angry. She was furious. Her fingers tightened around her wand. "Are you just going to let him speak to me like that? Are you going to let him call me all these hideous names?" she asked. "Is this how you really think of me?"

"Of course he does, mudblood," Edmond told her, a smirk on his face when he showed that he really knew his son better than she did. "How could he not? We come from one of the oldest, purest bloodlines, and you are _nothing _more than mudblood filth."

Nostrils flaring, she wanted to give the man who she had come to love over the last two years one more chance. "Rodolphus?" she asked, wanting him to look at her, to give her any hint that he was a man and not just a scared little boy. When he couldn't even meet her eyes, Hermione turned on her heel and left his flat, slamming the door behind her, feeling absolutely crushed. The sound of Edmond's laughter followed her out.

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks once she got into the hallway, running down the stairs as quickly as possible. Stepping out into the downpour, out into the alley, she wasn't sure where she could go. It wasn't as if she could just go home to the Weasleys, not when they would have so many questions about why she was upset.

She was so ashamed of herself, for ever thinking that Rodolphus could be more than the man she knew from her future. How could she let herself get so caught up in his web that she would forget that he was devoted enough to the pureblood cause to torture Neville's parents? Hermione longed for the future more than she ever had, wishing that she'd never spent one second in the past - wishing that she'd never set eyes on Rodolphus Lestrange. She couldn't believe that she'd actually let herself think that he might have changed...think that he might see her as more than a muggleborn.

Her heart breaking, Hermione knew that there was only one place that she _could_ go.

It was too far to apparate to Hogsmeade, so she walked to the Leaky to use their floo. Tom looked concerned from behind the bar, but gave her leave to use it to get to Hogsmeade. Stepping out at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione gave herself a few minutes to dry herself off, before making the long trek up the castle. She was surprised to find it open to her, and wondered if Dumbledore somehow had advanced notice of her arrival.

Trudging up to the Headmaster's office, she was pleased when the gargoyle didn't ask her for a password, simply moving aside so she could continue up the spiral staircase. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, reading from a book with a magnifying glass when she entered. "Miss Granger, what a surprise," he said, with a tone that suggested it wasn't a surprise at all. "You look like you could use some tea and a lemon drop."

A fresh round of tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she tried desperately to blink them away, knowing that this was a hurt that wouldn't be fixed with a cuppa. She shook her head, unable to find the words that she wanted to say.

"Well, come now, sit down. You obviously have a lot on your mind, let's talk it over," he suggested, flicking a hand at the chair across the desk from him so that it pulled out, offering it up to her.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Headmaster. I am done talking about things. I am done waiting. I am done trying to just _enjoy _my time here," she insisted, wishing that the Headmaster _never_ would have given her the stupid idea to just be a teenager. She had already ruined too many things by ignoring what she knew from the future, and she wasn't going to let anything else change. "I want to go back to my proper time, and I want to go _now_," she demanded, hands on her hips.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I know that the last one was a bit of a cliffhanger, but I am so excited to share with you what comes next. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-two and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-three soon!

* * *

June 1969

Rodolphus collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, half-drunk bottle of firewhiskey next to his body, wishing that he could get the persistent sadness to leave his mind. No amount of alcohol could numb the spiraling thoughts in his mind, though. He wasn't sure that the situation could even be salvaged, even if he did everything he could. It was all compounded by knowing that this was all caused by his own stupid decisions.

_Hermione_.

Salazar, he missed her. He _loved_ her, more than he would have anticipated. She was so much more than just a witch. Her lips haunted him, and her body filled his dreams. He thought about her smile everyday, and his missed making her laugh. Thinking about her was almost enough to spark a bit of hope in his heart. But then he remembered the absolutely crushed look in her eyes, the way she tried to look tough but the way that her lip quivered in front of his father.

And then his hope was extinguished when he remembered that it was all his fault.

He took another swig of the firewhiskey, wishing that he could just melt away into the bed. He'd been out all day looking for Hermione, but there was no sign of her. He'd even paid a visit to the Weasleys knowing, which had caused some serious confusion for Cedrella Weasley. She looked at him with a disapproving glare and told him that Hermione had gone home, and didn't know anything else.

Unfortunately, Hermione had never opened up to tell him about where home was. Maybe she was right to never fully open up.

He coughed, feeling the burn in his throat.

His door was pushed open and his younger brother spilled into the room, looking delighted until he saw the state of his brother. Then a well practiced sneer came over his face. "Are you still wallowing over that mudblood?" Rabastan drawled disdainfully. "I thought that after father set you straight you would come to realize that she was nothing more than a silly mistake."

His father had given Rodolphus no leeway once he saw that it was true his son was dating a muggleborn. Gone was the flat in Diagon Alley, and he'd been made to move back into his ancestral home. He kept his job, but Edmond had made it a habit of stopping in frequently to make sure that Rodolphus really was where he said he was. He was even made to stop seeing Auggie and Max, although he had been promised a reprieve to attend Max's wedding later that summer. His every move was under surveillance by the house elves and it was driving him wild.

"Fuck off, Rab," he growled, resisting the desire to send a jinx hurtling his brother's way.

"You should be thanking me for telling father," Rabastan said, crossing the room to look at his brother. "It was pathetic the way that you carried on with her. It wasn't as if you could have had a future with her - she's practically not even the same species as us."

Rodolphus sat up, looking at his brother disgusted, wondering how he could say something so horrid about another witch or wizard, even if they were muggleborn. After knowing Hermione, he knew that muggleborns were no different than purebloods, even if they didn't know the proper wizarding traditions. If anything, they were a breath of fresh air.

He almost didn't even recognize his younger brother, who just two years ago adored him. Rodolphus had imagined taking Rabastan under his wing, to make him a little bit less like his father and a little bit more decent, but it seemed that the allure of their father had been too strong to escape. He'd imagined giving him advice about asking his first girl to Hogsmeade, or which shaving spells worked best, but instead Rabastan had gotten pulled into the wrong crowd, making friends with Crouch and Travers. The kind of boys that would say that muggleborns were a different species from purebloods.

"I was happy," Rodolphus said with a snarl. "But happiness doesn't mean anything in this family. It isn't useful. So don't get too comfortable yourself." He wondered who his father would try to betroth Rabastan too, but he knew it couldn't be far off either...that is, if Rodolphus hadn't totally ruined their prospects. The thought made him smile.

"You can be happy with another witch," Rabastan insisted. "Don't confuse fucking with happiness."

"Where did you get an idea like that from?" Rodolphus asked, sitting up from his spot on the bed, letting his anger radiate out. Even though Rabastan was peacocking around now that Rodolphus was under his father's watchful eyes, that didn't mean that Rodolphus wasn't a wizard grown, and much more powerful than his little brother. He wouldn't hesitate to jinx him. The thought that he could be happy with another witch was...abhorrent, especially when that other witch was meant to be Bellatrix Black.

"What?" Rabastan asked, his eyes widening a bit when he saw the menacing way that his brother was staring at him, taking an involuntary step backwards. "It's what father always says." His voice cracked, showing his age.

"Yeah, well father doesn't know what he's talking about," Rodolphus insisted. His happiness with Hermione had little to do with the sex, and more to do with the way that she made him feel. Not that he could expect Rabastan to understand that at fourteen. "And you would do well to shut up about it, too, or I will shut it for you."

False bravado leaving him, Rabastan just nodded his head, perhaps realizing now that he had pushed his brother too far. He didn't have any more insults to hurl or rude things to say about Hermione. Instead, he turned tail and left Rodolphus alone with his dark thoughts.

Taking another pull from the firewhiskey bottle, Rodolphus set it down on his bedside table, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes to keep the tears at bay. He wondered if he would ever be happy again without at least _apologizing_ to Hermione, but he knew deep down he wouldn't. This would be a wound that would linger and fester. Would Hermione think that this was pathetic of him, he wondered?

Standing up, he knew that he couldn't stop looking for her. Yes, he'd gone to the Weasleys home, but he recently learned that Arthur Weasley had bought a home of his own. Remembering how close Hermione had been with Weasley while they were at Hogwarts, Rodolphus knew that it had to be his next stop.

Apparating to Ottery St. Catchpole, Rodolphus made the long walk from the village to the outskirts where Weasley lived. Stumbling a bit over his feet, Rodolphus was embarrassed to realize that he'd drank a bit more than he expected, but he'd come too far to turn back now.

The cottage was quaint, but nice, the kind of place that he'd expect a wizard like Weasley to live. He had no warding up, which was not too smart in Rodolphus's opinion, but he'd keep quiet about it, if Weasley would just tell him where Hermione was. Pounding on the door, Rodolphus listened to the noises inside while he waited for Weasley to answer. "Open up, Weasley, I know that you're in there," he shouted.

It took a few more seconds - what felt like an eternity to Rodolphus - but eventually the red head opened the door, looking surprised to see _him_ standing there. "What do you want, Lestrange? You're drunk," he said, a fierce look on his face, chest puffed out, ever the brave Gryffindor.

"Isn't it obvious?" he questioned. "I'm looking for Hermione."

"Well, I can't help you there," Arthur said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Come on, Weasley, I wasn't born yesterday," he said, trying to look past the other wizard to see inside the cottage, looking for any sign of Hermione. "I know that you always had a hard on for my girlfriend. You'd only be too willing to let her stay with you."

Arthur moved side to side, not giving Rodolphus the opportunity to see much past the doorway, no matter how hard he tried. "I don't like what you are insinuating, Lestrange," he said with a frown. "Now, please leave."

"I know that Hermione is in there. _Please_ just let me talk to her," Rodolphus begged. He was so desperate to see her, to _explain_, to apologize for standing there while his father said all those horrible things, for not standing up for _them_ like he'd promised her he would, that he would drop to his knees in front of Weasley, he didn't care.

"If you can't find Hermione, maybe there is a reason for that," Arthur suggested gently. "It probably means that she doesn't want to see you. And the way that _I _hear it, she has good reason to not want to see you ever again."

Hope bloomed anew in Rodolphus's chest. "So, you've talked to her, then?" he asked, glad to know that _someone_ would admit to seeing Hermione since she ran out of his flat. "Please, Weasley, I know that we've never been friends, but I need to speak with her."

"I haven't spoken to her, no, but I've heard about what happened between the two of you," Arthur explained. "And, even if we _were_ friends, I wouldn't tell you where she was. I warned her - I _warned_ her about the kind of wizard you were, and wouldn't you know if you've proved me right. I only wish that Hermione didn't have to get hurt in the process."

Arthur made to shut the door, but Rodolphus darted out his hand to catch it, unwilling to stop the conversation. "Look, I know that I've fucked up," he said, his eyes dropping to the floor. He couldn't let Weasley seem him crying, that would be too pathetic. "But, all I am looking for is a chance to make it up to her."

Weasley looked at him with pity in his eyes, but made no comment to try and alleviate Rodolphus's discomfort.

"Please, just let me come in and talk to her. I need to apologize to her," he begged, feeling like this was his only chance. "Or, if she's _really_ not here, you could at least get a message to her...tell her how much I love her and...tell her that I would do _anything_ for her." He wondered why it was so easy to tell Weasley - his Quidditch enemy for over five years - about how he felt about Hermione, but he couldn't tell his own father.

The other man looked as if he was wavering, before a firm look came on his face. He didn't say anything at all.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get any further that night, Rodolphus turned away, ready to leave with his tail between his legs, back to his family home, and the wrath of his father when he realized that Rodolphus had slipped away once again. He was beginning to think that there really was no salvaging this situation. Disappointed that he had been wrong and she wasn't really there, he knew that he was back to square one and he had no idea where to look for Hermione next.

He was halfway across the grassy field in front of Weasley's cottage, when he heard Arthur shout at him, his voice ringing in the cool night air. "Hey, Lestrange, wait!" he called out, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind him. Rodolphus watched as he jogged the distance between them. "When you said that you would do anything for Hermione...did you really mean anything?"

Rodolphus felt his shoulders sag in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Nodding his head, he didn't even have to think about what Weasley was asking him. "_Anything_," he swore, knowing that it was the truth. "Anything."


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! I can't believe how quickly the year is coming to it's end. I am so excited to hear what you think of this chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-three and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-four soon!

* * *

July 1969

It took everything in his power not to claw and scratch at the dark ink that was now under his skin, festering with darker magic than he knew existed. Hermione _had_ known that it existed, and had warned Rodolphus about the man that he'd known as Tom Riddle, but his father worshiped as _Lord_ Voldemort.

And now Rodolphus wore the Dark Lord's Dark Mark.

He'd participated in the celebration of the summer solstice, to his father's delight. It was held at Alfred Nott's ancestral home, as he was one of the few purebloods who had the large stones necessary for the sacrifices. He watched as his father and his friends butchered the deer that they would all eat that night, and imagined describing the reasoning behind each act to Hermione. She would have found the whole thing fascinating.

When the sun finally went down, the massive bonfire was lit, and Rodolphus was filled with a terrible sort of ache. Just like the nights would grow longer each day, Rodolphus could sense that the darkness in his life would also grow with each passing day.

While he was at the ritual, he made a point to seek out Tom Riddle. It was clear that at one point he had been handsome, but there was something _off_ about the way that he looked. His eyes seemed to appear almost red in some lights, and his skin had a waxy, sickly hue. The younger wizard wondered how he had enough appeal to get so many influential families to support him, especially because he seemed to come out of nowhere.

But then he started _talking_ to the man, and he could see how easy it would be to get swept up. Riddle seemed to know exactly what you wanted and was willing to promise it to you...for a price. Unfortunately for Rodolphus, what he wanted most in the world was a muggleborn witch - something he was sure that this Dark Lord would never abide.

His discussion with the other wizard had not gone unnoticed. His father, with blood still staining his hands, had insisted that Rodolphus join him for a drink in his office once they returned to their home together. His father was pleased that he was _moving on_ from his little dalliance, the way that he was supposed to as the heir to an ancient and noble house.

His father had been even more thrilled when Rodolphus asked about joining Riddle. That Rodolphus wanted to support the cause...the same way his father had.

The next morning, even though he was likely nursing a massive hangover, his father had left to begin making arrangements for Rodolphus to take the Dark Mark. Rabastan was hugely jealous of his older brother and vowed to do the same the minute that he was allowed to do so. Rodolphus felt sick to his stomach, wondering just what kind of future he'd just made for Rab.

There was barely anytime for him to reconsider what was likely the biggest decision of his life. His father went full steam ahead, frequently telling Rodolphus that he was making the right decision for their family. Also, his father promised that he would likely see his own friends from school making the same decision very soon.

His father had not prepared him for the pain that receiving the Dark Mark would involve, or the horrific things that he had to do first to receive it. Rodolphus tried to put the thoughts out of his mind, or he was sure that he would scream, sure to ruin the _party_ that was being held for him as one of the Dark Lord's newest recruits. How could they even think of throwing a party after what he had just endured? He was still shaking and clammy, his stomach roiling in protest.

Then he looked over to Evan Rosier the Third - someone who'd been a few years ahead of him while at Hogwarts - who had taken the mark with him, and saw the way that he was lapping up all the attention, throwing back glass after glass of champagne.

Rodolphus wished he could just blend into the wall or better yet, return home, but he didn't trust himself to apparate just yet, and he was certain his father would have questions about his absence.

"I see that you've finally pulled your head out of your arse," a familiar voice said loudly, gaining his attention almost immediately. "Although you still have the stink of mudblood on you."

He watched dispassionately as Bellatrix slinked her way over to him, wearing stunning robes of shimmering dark gray. It seemed that she was trying to catch _someone's_ eye tonight, and he was certain that it wasn't his. "What do you want, Bellatrix?" he asked, his voice still graveley from screaming.

"I just wanted to tell you that even though you've taken the Dark Mark, that doesn't mean that our marriage contract will be reinstated," she told him, sticking her nose up in the air. "And I am forever pleased with that. I suppose mudblood's _do_ have some uses after all."

He rounded on her, his anger flaring suddenly. "Don't talk about something you know nothing about, Bellatrix," he snarled. "It's not as if I wanted to marry you, either, and I would never _dream_ of asking my father to betroth me to you."

Bellatrix cackled, drawing some attention to the pair. "Oh, does ickle Roddy still have some feelings for the mudblood?" she teased in some sort of baby talk that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Well, I'm certain she wouldn't touch you with a broomstick now that you've become one of us. She always was a bit of a bleeding heart."

His eyes were drawn to the Dark Mark that stood out proudly from Bellatrix's pale skin, the snake constantly writhing in the skull. Unlike so many of the other followers at the party, the young witch made no move to hide her mark, wanting to show the whole world how devoted she was to the Dark Lord.

Then it clicked for him. "If we are speaking of unattainable lovers, Bella, you should know that the Dark Lord would never pick you," he said with a sneer, wanting to tear her down just as much as she had him. "He's been alone forty years now, what makes you think he would want a pathetic _little_ girl like you? He's only interested in himself."

That seemed to touch a nerve with Bellatrix, and he could see the fury reflected in her eyes. "Because he's never had a witch as _devoted_ as me. You will see, Rodolphus," she insisted, although he could see the cracks of insecurity beginning to form. "I will be the Dark Lord's woman and nothing _you_ can say will change that."

Wanting to get the last word, Bellatrix turned and left him standing alone, before flouncing off to where the Dark Lord was standing.

Left with Bellatrix's words ringing in his head, Rodolphus couldn't even imagine what Hermione would think of him if she could see him now. He was certain that Bellatrix was right...that Hermione wouldn't even speak to him. It seemed as though he had fulfilled all the assumptions that she had made about him two years ago, when he was just trying to get her to talk to him. There was no forgiveness for him now.

Not left alone for long, his father came up to him. Pressing a firewhiskey into Rodolphus's hand, he was not able to contain his happiness that Rodolphus was now one of them. "I saw you talking to Bellatrix," he said with feigned nonchalance. "Cygnus had doubted your suitability when he learned about the girl, but now that you've taken steps to correct things, perhaps the betrothal could be revisited."

Rodolphus shook his head. "Not a chance. Bellatrix has her eyes on other men," he said, before indicating to where she stood, fawning over the Dark Lord. The man was lapping it up.

"Hm, Cygnus was worried about that as well," his father quipped. "But, I don't see that happening."

"Well, I don't want her either," Rodolphus said vehemently, needing to get his father to see that Bellatrix was a no go. Otherwise, all of this would be for naught if he ended up married to her in the end. "I'm of age now, and I won't consent to it." It was a trump card that he wasn't afraid to play.

"Understandable. I don't know what Cygnus was thinking, letting his daughter take the mark," Edmond commiserated, as if that was the problem. "A witch's place is in the home, with the children. It's a pity that the youngest one is already spoken for by the Malfoys."

Rodolphus didn't think much of Narcissa Black himself, seeing as she'd been all of thirteen the last time he'd seen her, but he could understand why she ticked all the boxes for his father. Narcissa was the most beautiful and agreeable of the three Black sisters, and it was clear that she wanted to be the perfect pureblood wife. There was no way that Cygnus would give up his crown jewel to a man who'd been with a muggleborn though.

"Maybe we could hold off on any betrothals for a while," he suggested, hoping that his father would see reason. "I've only just joined and...I don't want to make a mistake, picking the wrong witch."

"Maybe for a few months, but I intend to see you engaged by the winter solstice," his father revealed to him. "You are my heir, and it would please me to see you married and with a child of your own. It's important to continue the family line."

"Yes, but you have Rabastan as well. _He_ can continue the family line once he is a bit older," Rodolphus argued. Wasn't that the whole point of having an heir and a spare? He didn't want to get married and bring a child into the world, just to ensure there was another generation of Lestranges. "I don't see what's so bad about waiting."

His father sighed. "You don't want to end up like Alfred, do you? His father didn't work hard enough to get him a match, and now he is all alone, with no brothers or sisters, either," Edmond said, staring across the way at his school friend and Rodolphus's boss. "And now, no family wants to promise their young daughter to him, not when they could find someone more appropriate to their age."

It was true that Rodolphus didn't want to be alone, but...he didn't want any witch who wasn't Hermione. "I suppose," he agreed.

"Just keep an open mind, and I will give you a bit of time to enjoy yourself," his father promised. "But we can't wait too long or people will begin to think something is wrong with you."

Rodolphus wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with him.

"What about Cassia Flint?" his father asked him, as he was about to make his leave.

That made Rodolphus laugh. "I mean...if you want Max to challenge me to a duel for daring to touch his little sister, sure," he said. "But I'd rather not marry my best friend's little sister," he insisted, thinking how odd that would be.

Not wanting to hear any more of the potential witches for him to marry, Rodolphus emptied his glass and told his father he was going to get another drink. The firewhiskey burned in his belly, but not enough to distract from his aching forearm, the wound still festering. It felt as though he would never be fully healed from the Dark Mark, and after seeing all the people at the party, celebrating the Dark Lord, he was beginning to believe it was true. Even after the magical ink had set into his skin, he was sure the dark magic would linger, infecting him for the rest of his life.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I am also _really_ excited to hear what you think of this chapter. I've been planning it forever, and yeah, I just can't wait to hear what you think about it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-four and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-five soon!

* * *

July 1969

Opening up her eyes to see the familiar ceiling of what would someday become Ginny Weasley's bedroom, Hermione pressed her hands to her stomach not ready to face the day yet. She wasn't sure how, but her life had become increasingly more complicated now that Rodolphus was out of her life.

Even though it had been over a month, Hermione still felt rotten for how cowardly the man she'd come to love had acted in the face of his father. Rodolphus had looked _so guilty_ when he didn't stand up for her, obviously not liking what his father was saying to her, but he didn't have the courage to go against Edmond Lestrange, either.

She had been adamant that Dumbledore send her back to her correct time, feeling that he had been jerking her around for too long. She sensed that he knew more than he was letting on - either the Ministry knew what they were doing or they didn't, but she needed to know that now. She figured that they didn't know what they were going...after all, she hadn't heard of anyone using a time turner to go forward in time. In any case, you were not meant to go back further than five hours using a time turner and she'd already traveled decades.

But, at this point, she had nothing to lose. If Dumbledore couldn't help her, then she wanted him to provide her with a time turner. She would try to get back to her correct time on her own.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure _how_ but Dumbledore had convinced her to give him a bit more time. He promised he would help her get home, and being so emotionally broken, she believed him in that moment.

It wasn't possible for her to go back to live with the Weasleys, not when Rodolphus knew that she lived here. For one, she didn't even want to see him ever again, but even worse, she wasn't sure what he would tell his father. She couldn't chance the possibility that Edmond Lestrange might go after them, looking for her, especially not when she knew so little about Arthur's parents in her time.

Dumbledore had wholeheartedly agreed with her on that point, but told her that he knew of a safe house that she could stay at, if only temporarily. She never would have imagined that it would be the Burrow, though.

Molly Prewett had not taken her presence in Arthur's new home well, even though they were bound to be engaged soon. Arthur had told her he was just saving up for a ring. Hermione supposed that she couldn't really blame the other witch, though, seeing as Arthur had romantic interest in her in the past. She doubted really that anything either of them said would help to put Molly's mind at ease.

Because of the unusual circumstances, it meant that Molly spent a _lot_ of time over at Arthur's, perhaps looking for anything out of place. At first it bothered Hermione to have her there all the time, constantly looking to Hermione to do something untoward. But as the days went by with Arthur leaving for his job at the Ministry most days, Hermione began to enjoy the company. It was better than being lonely.

The door to her bedroom was pushed open without so much as a courtesy knock, and Molly poked her head in. "Are you still in bed?" she asked, letting her annoyance be known. "If Arthur is letting you stay here, the _least_ you could do is help with the housework, especially since he has to deal with Lestranges showing up here drunk."

Hermione flushed, remembering Rodolphus's visit a few weeks before. His impassioned pleas almost had her running down the stairs to speak with him, but she remained rooted in her bedroom while Arthur handled it. "I didn't ask for him to do that," she said softly, sitting up in her bed. "And it only happened the one time."

"Still, you shouldn't be so _lazy_," Molly insisted.

"I'm sorry, Molly, I just haven't been feeling well," Hermione explained, hoping the other witch would understand. Swinging her legs around, she sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the bout of lightheadedness to leave her.

"It's probably just because you sit around all day. Getting out in the garden to degnome will be good for you...get some fresh air and sunlight," Molly postulated, her tone getting a little bit softer.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and stood up. "I hope so. I've just been so...out of sorts since my NEWTs. Maybe it's because I don't know what to do with myself anymore now that I've left school," Hermione suggested, lifting her arms over her head to stretch. When she was finished, she noticed Molly giving her an unusual sort of look. "What is it?"

"You've been out of sorts since June? Out of sorts how?" the other witch pressed her.

"Well, you know, my stomach is always in knots...I'm _always_ tired...but you are probably right, I just need to do some more activity," Hermione described the persistent issues that she had been having. "I'm sure it's just my mood and it will pass soon."

Molly was giving her that queer look again, her face becoming more and more troubled the longer she stared, before her eyes eventually dropped to Hermione's stomach. "You are looking a bit puffy," Molly said finally, biting her lower lip. "And...well, have you put on some weight?"

Hermione balked, thinking that it wasn't a very nice thing to point out. "I don't really know what that has to do with anything," she answered, feeling affronted. Hermione pressed her hands to her stomach, highlighting the beginning of a rounded curve through her thin cotton nightdress. "Though, I suppose maybe just a little bit."

"For being as smart as you are, you sometimes can't see what's just in front of you," Molly said, shaking her head, willing Hermione to understand whatever it was that she was suggesting. "Hermione...is there a probability that you could be...pregnant?" she asked finally.

Initially, Hermione wanted to deny it outright, as she and Rodolphus had always been so careful with the charm. But then, she supposed, there was always a _chance_ of it not working properly, and the nerves began to rush in. When was the last time that she'd had her period, anyway? It had been a while, but she had never been very regular...and it was surely just the stress of her exams and then being confined to a safe house, right? But, no...she hadn't had her period since April.

April...when she and Rodolphus had rented that room at the Three Broomsticks on her Hogsmeade weekend. "Oh fuck," she said, softly, realizing that she'd been so excited to see him, that perhaps they hadn't been as careful with the Charm as she'd thought. "Oh fuck," she repeated, feeling her stomach rioting against her. "I think I am going to throw up."

Running down the hallway with her hand over her mouth, she heard Molly following behind her. She only just made it to the bathroom before she was spewing, her knees aching against the cold floor. Tears sprang to her eyes when she felt Molly rubbing gently on her lower back, waiting for her to be done. "What am I going to do?" Hermione asked, feeling her world spinning out of control.

"Let's try the spell first to see if you even are pregnant," Molly suggested, calmly, before pulling out her wand.

When Hermione didn't protest, she cast the spell, only to show that Hermione was pregnant. The younger witch held her breath only to see it show what she already instinctively knew. She _was_ pregnant. Her thoughts were whirring by so quickly, but one thing seemed to stick out in her mind more than anything.

Bursting into tears, Hermione pressed her face into her hands. "I'm never going to be able to go home now," she blubbered. Time traveling was dangerous for an individual, and Hermione knew that there was no way that she was going to be able to to jump forward _decades_ with an unborn baby inside of her, too. It was not something she was willing to chance. And even if she waited and had the baby, Hermione knew that she would never be able to leave her child behind.

"It will be okay," Molly promised, her face showing genuine compassion. "I promise. I know that it seems frightening right now, but...you are a strong witch, Hermione."

"Merlin, I never imagined..." Hermione trailed off. What would Rodolphus think if he knew? Her heart ached anew when she realized that she couldn't tell him...not when he couldn't even stand up for her to his father. She wouldn't allow her child to be hurt in that same way. And who even knew that Edmond Lestrange would do if he learned that he had a half-blood grandchild.

Molly nodded in understanding. "Just give yourself some time to let it sink in," she suggested, tucking some of Hermione's hair behind her ear. "Arthur and I will help you, and I am sure Dumbledore will as well. We can even help you get in contact with Rodolphus if you want."

"I can't tell him," Hermione said emphatically, blinking back tears.

"That's probably for the best," Molly agreed. "But if you change your mind, we can help."

Hermione nodded, knowing that it was true. Still, it was good to know that she had the support from the young Weasley couple. "How do you know exactly what to do?" she asked, feeling thankful that she had Molly with her in that moment.

Molly bit her lower lip, clearly trying to decide what to share. "I suppose it would be good to tell someone else..." she said, finally, trailing off. "Earlier this year, Arthur and I had a surprise. The charm must have failed, but I was pregnant. We told his parents and they were _furious_. They never liked me to begin with, but this was just too much for them to handle..."

"Oh Merlin. I can only imagine what Cedrella must have done," Hermione commiserated, knowing that the older witch would not have taken kindly to the situation. She was a very old-fashioned witch.

"That's when Arthur got serious about moving out, though, too, and purchased the Burrow," Molly explained. "But, I had a miscarriage in March, so I suppose it just wasn't meant to be."

"I'm so sorry, Molly," Hermione told her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I had no idea. That must have been so hard without the support of your families."

"It was hard, but...it's given Arthur and I a lot to think about," she said, with a blush on her cheeks. "We will get married this autumn, and we will try again when we are a bit better prepared."

It was clear that the other witch still had a lot of sadness over the miscarriage, but that she was genuinely pleased for what the future with Arthur held. And Hermione was happy for Molly and Arthur, that they really were going to be together, as they had been in the future. "Well, I am glad that I have you here, Molly, because I don't know what I would have done if I'd figured this out on my own," Hermione told her. "In fact, I still think that I'm a little bit in shock."

Molly bit her lip again, thinking. "I'm sorry with how I've been acting to you," she said, remorsefully. "I _knew_ there was nothing going on between you and Arthur, but, I just get so jealous sometimes because I know how much Cedrella likes you. Why don't you get back into bed, and I will make you something to eat."

That sounded lovely, and Hermione found herself pulling herself up from the floor, suddenly exhausted once again.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Huge thank you for all your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I know that was a pretty big reveal, and Hermione has definitely got a lot on her plate right now! I will be so curious to hear what you think about how I handled this chapter, because I had to completely re-outline some of the chapters! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-five and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-six soon!

* * *

August 1969

It wasn't to say that Hermione had been _avoiding_ Dumbledore, but she had definitely stopped reaching out to him about getting back to the future since finding out that she was pregnant. Instead, she focused herself on reading whatever books she could on magical pregnancy and childbirth, trying to prepare as much as possible for her future child.

Molly had been wonderful to her after their heart to heart. Hermione wasn't sure if her carrying another man's child made her completely unavailable as a romantic rival for Arthur's affections, but she didn't really care so long as she remained on good terms with the other witch. Molly had helped her brew the necessary prenatal potions that Hermione would need to take, and even arranged for a healer to see her at home to make sure that everything was going well with the little one. When her stomach began to swell even more, Molly taught her spells that would tailor her robes so that she wouldn't need to buy new.

It was helpful to have Molly on her side when she broke the news to Arthur as well. She was surprised to see her friend become so red and upset on her behalf. Hermione half expected the wizard to go out and hunt down Rodolphus and make him take responsibility for her and the baby. Eventually, though, he grew excited for her to be having a little one in a few months and promised to help her in anyway that he could. Wrapping an arm around Molly's middle, he even offered to babysit whenever he wanted, letting her know that they wanted as much practice as they could get before they started a family.

However, she was also certain that it was Arthur who spilled the beans to Headmaster Dumbledore about the pregnancy. The redhead looked quite guilty when he told her that their former teacher would be stopping by the Burrow for tea with her.

When the auburn haired wizard swept into the quaint cottage, he looked quite out of place. "I understand that a congratulations is in order," he said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione answered, pouring hot water into each of their cups. "It was...unexpected, but I am happy." It had taken her a while to come to terms with her pregnancy. Of course, she hadn't meant to get pregnant at this age, fresh out of Hogwarts, but she already loved her baby with all of her heart.

"And, I am certain that I don't need to tell you that returning to your time is an impossibility now," he told her, leaving no room for argument.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I know that I'm stuck here," she said, trying to avoid the lump in her throat. Even though she loved the baby, it was hard not to mourn the loss of her own life, the feeling of finality heavy on her heart.

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea, before setting the cup back down. "Well, I didn't come here to talk about your pregnancy," he said, rummaging in his pocket. "I have had a lot of time to think about what you told me about Voldemort and the events that happened in your future. Tell me, does this look familiar to you at all?"

From his pocket, a beautifully wrought silver and emerald locket emerged. Dumbledore set it on the table before pushing it her way. Hermione picked up the delicate chain, before tracing the 'S' on it's face with her forefinger. An involuntary shiver ran down her back when she felt the magic radiating off of it. "No," she said emphatically, before handing it back to Dumbledore, not wanting to hold it for another second. "What is it? It _feels_ like dark magic."

"That's because it is dark magic...perhaps the darkest magic I've heard of," he explained. "You told me that in your time, Voldemort kept coming _back_ to life. That caught my attention, because, well, people don't just come back to life. Magic is powerful, but not _that_ powerful."

"Outside of someone using a time turner to save him, I don't really see how it could be done. Not to mention that it would have enormous consequences," Hermione agreed. "I always figured that he wasn't _really_ dead to begin with."

"Well, there is one thing that could bring a witch or wizard back to life," Dumbledore explained. "But it is so terrible to make that I can't believe that Voldemort would have done it as many times as he did."

Hermione bit at her lower lip, wondering what it was. "Well? What did he do?" she asked, _needing_ to know, especially if it held the key for defeating the dark wizard.

"Have you heard of a horcrux, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, after a beat of silence.

Shaking her head, Hermione could safely say that she hadn't ever come across a horcrux, but she wouldn't be surprised considering that Dumbledore thought it such abhorrent magic. "I can't say that I have, sir."

"A horcrux is made when a witch or wizard splits their soul and places into an object," he told her. "Then, if one part of their soul is destroyed, they have a backup plan so to speak."

"But how does someone split their soul to begin with?" Hermione asked, her mind reeling. She didn't even know that such a thing was possible, but it would explain the way that he seemed to keep coming back again and again. It would also explain the ritual that Harry had witnessed in the graveyard after the Triwizard Tournament.

"There is only one way," Dumbledore said. "Murder."

Hermione thought that was obviously something Voldemort was capable of, and it sounded like something that he would do. But then, if Dumbledore was suggesting that Voldemort had made a horcrux and the horcrux _was_ the locket...

She shivered once again, thinking about how she'd held a piece of Voldemort in her hand. "So you are saying that's a little piece of Voldemort's soul?" she asked. "We can just destroy it and then he'd be vulnerable to death once again, unable to come back again."

"Yes, this is one of Voldemort's horcruxes," Dumbledore agreed. "But, it is uniquely difficult to destroy, although not impossible. But it is not as simple as just destroying this one locket. Based on what you've told me of the future, I believe that he has made _five_ horcruxes."

"Five?!" Hermione asked, thinking that it sounded like an impossible task. How on Earth where they supposed to find five more. "How are we supposed to even know what the other ones are? And...how did you get that one in the first place?" she questioned, feeling a bit suspicious.

"I knew Voldemort before he took on that name, when he was just Tom Riddle, living at an orphanage. He will hide the horcruxes in places that are important to him," Dumbledore explained. "I will admit that I was a bit lucky in finding a second horcrux, hidden away at Hogwarts, while I was looking through the Room of Forgotten Things for an old quill set that I wanted to use."

"Great, so we have two of them...what about the other three?" Hermione asked. "How do we even know what we are looking for?"

Dumbledore smiled at her, perhaps happy to have someone so willing to assist him in this task. "You already _know_ of one of the horcruxes, even though you don't think of it as such," he said, trying to get her to figure it out.

It snapped into place then - an item that held a little bit of Voldemort could be nothing other than the diary. "The Diary that possessed Ginny Weasley," she said. "That's easy...Lucius Malfoy had it. But, well, he is still at school. Do you think that his father might have been given it first?"

"It's possible. Abraxas is one of Voldemort's most vocal supporters," Dumbledore agreed.

So, if they could just get ahold of that, that would mean that they had three of the five horcruxes, Hermione thought excitedly. And then, they could just destroy it like Harry had. "The horcruxes are vulnerable to basilisk venom," Hermione said proudly, glad to figure it out. "I can show you where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is, and then we can kill the basilisk and harvest it's venom," she said, excitedly, feeling as though this was going to be much easier than she had initially feared.

"Yes, exactly," he nodded his head in agreement, having come to the same conclusion as well.

But then...there were two more horcruxes that they had absolutely no idea where they would be hidden or _what_ they would even be. "But then...we still have no idea what the others are," she said, feeling a bit dejected.

"I believe he might have left us a clue for that as well," Dumbledore answered, his blue eyes showing off a hint of his trademark twinkle. "Do you recognize the locket? Do you see what it is?"

Hermione gave it a second look, but she couldn't say that she did recognize it. "I'm sorry, I don't understand," she finally told him, disappointed that she couldn't piece it out on her own. "Is it a historic magical artifact?"

"Yes, actually. This is a locket that was owned by Salazar Slytherin himself," Dumbledore revealed with a grin.

Hermione looked at it a second time and could now see that the 'S' was actually formed by a miniscule snake, something she hadn't noticed the first time. "So...the other items belong to Salazar Slytherin? Or belonged to, rather?" she asked.

"Now you are beginning to see," Dumbledore said, sounding pleased. "There was a time that Tom Riddle came back from a break at Hogwarts and began wearing a ring that belonged to the Gaunt family. He toyed with it constantly in class. I would bet that it was his first horcrux...another family heirloom."

"Is that the other horcrux you stumbled upon?" Hermione asked, thinking that it would make sense for him to have left that at Hogwarts. Perhaps he had misplaced it and it ended up in the Room of Requirement.

"Actually, no. The horcrux I found was a diadem that had at one point belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw."

"But that's been missing for hundreds of years!" Hermione said, wondering what the chances were that Tom Riddle would have been able to find it, and then have Dumbledore find it again.

Dumbledore frowned. "Tom Riddle was - is, rather - very charming. I'm sure that he was able to get the Gray Lady to tell him where it was. She is Helena Ravenclaw, afterall."

Hermione's mind was spinning once again with that information. How had she not put two and two together! "So, something from Slytherin, something from Ravenclaw...does that mean the last horcrux belongs to Helga Hufflepuff?" she asked. "There is no _way_ that he would use something from Gryffindor to hold a piece of his soul."

"Well, I'm afraid I don't actually have the answer to that question. I haven't the foggiest idea of what the last horcrux could be," he said, sounding a bit tired. "But, it _does_ fit the pattern, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was. However, it could be something as innocuous as a diary."

She was suddenly feeling a bit defeated as well, thinking it was a lot like looking for a needle in a haystack. But, she knew that she would do anything she could to find it, if it meant riding the world of Voldemort once and for all. If she couldn't get back to her correct time, she was at least going to make the best future possible for her friends, even if they would never remember her. "I'll do whatever I can to help you, Professor," Hermione vowed. "When should I come by Hogwarts to show you the entrance to the Chamber?"


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-six and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-seven soon!

* * *

August 1969

Once Hermione knew that Voldemort had created horcruxes, everything seemed so much clearer to her, most specifically, the way that he kept coming back to life, seemingly unable to be killed. She threw herself into researching the terrible objects, as much as she could, needing to gather as much information as possible to prepare herself.

The more she read about them, the more she began to wonder if perhaps Harry had been a horcrux himself. It was disturbing to think about, but the connection between Lord Voldemort and Harry had always troubled her, especially when she was in her fifth year at Hogwarts. Now, she wondered if a little bit of Voldemort's soul hadn't ended up a part of her best friend when he was just a baby. It would certainly explain everything.

But, that wouldn't matter, now, because she was going to prevent Voldemort from ever killing Lily and James Potter, leaving Harry the orphaned boy-who-lived.

Headmaster Dumbledore had to tell Arthur and Molly _something_, and so he clued them into their plans to _deal with_ You-Know-Who. Dumbledore explained that he was growing too powerful, too influential, and that he would make the wizarding world worse off with his plans to eradicate muggleborns. Neither of the redheads needed much convincing to agree to assist in anyway that they could. Arthur in particular was irritated by the things he was seeing in the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione had smiled then, seeing the fledgling beginnings of the Order of the Phoenix, although they did not have the same number of members yet, nor the name. Both Molly and Arthur promised that they knew of other people who would want to help - Molly's older twin brothers Gideon and Fabian for two - and Dumbledore did as well. They made plans to gather everyone over the Yule holiday so that it could be disguised as a party, and not draw undue attention.

It also gave Hermione and Dumbledore time to work out what exactly they were looking at. If they had a method and an idea of what the horcruxes were by then, they could share the burden with other members of their group.

But before they could do that, they needed to get into the Chamber of Secrets and kill the basilisk that was living in it.

After much research, Hermione saw that fiendfyre was an alternative method to destroying the evil objects, but she was concerned that they would react pooly. After all, fiendfrye was dark magic itself, and she didn't want to add fuel to the flame by tossing in something so uniquely evil as a horcrux. She could see it ending in disaster, even for an experienced wizard like Headmaster Dumbledore.

Once that was decided, Hermione and Headmaster Dumbledore made plans for her to come to Hogwarts to enter the Chamber. It was decided that she should come before the students returned for term, considering that their safety was paramount.

So, on a non-descript Tuesday morning in August, Hermione flooed to the Three Broomsticks, and made the short walk up to the castle. It was hot outside, and by the time that she made her way inside, she was grateful for the cool air in the huge stone school. She didn't see anyone, not even a ghost, on her way up to the Headmaster's office, but she was surprised to see it already occupied by Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Granger," the other witch said, before her eyes settled on her rounding waist. "You're...Albus, did you know about this?" she asked, sounding more than a little disappointed.

Hermione couldn't stop her hands from crossing protectively over the curve of her five month pregnant belly, protecting the little witch or wizard that was growing inside of her. It certainly didn't feel good to know that a Professor she respected so much was judging her. A part of her wondered if future Hermione would be judging her choices, though, too.

"I don't know why he would have known," Hermione said tartly. "It's not as if he was involved," she added with a blush.

"Well, it must have happened while you were still a student!" Professor McGonagall argued back. "While you were in our care."

She could feel her cheeks heat up at the suggestion. "If you _must_ know, it didn't happen _at_ school. It happened during a Hogsmeade weekend in one of the rented rooms at the Three Broomsticks," she said hotly, perhaps revealing more than she wanted to. "But, I did not come here to be interrogated about my pregnancy, and if it is going to continue, I can leave."

"That won't be necessary, Miss Granger," Headmaster Dumbledore said, finally stepping in to end the inquiry by Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, Miss Granger is going to help us locate the Chamber of Secrets. There is no need to be antagonistic."

Once she was properly chastised, Professor McGonagall set her lips into a tight line, perhaps wishing to say more about what Hermione had revealed, but not wanting to upset the Headmaster.

Hermione was somewhat worried with the number of people that Dumbledore was telling about their plans to destroy the horcruxes, but she knew that everyone so far was completely trustworthy. Still, it was hard not to be concerned about their knowledge to get back to Voldemort, and him moving his horcruxes, or making some sort of backup plan. But, for now, she knew that she had to focus on getting the basilisk venom or they would have no way to destroy the horcruxes they did know about.

"Come on," Hermione said, confidently taking charge. "Let's go. The entrance is in the first floor girl's lavatory."

"One moment, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, before returning to his desk. "I just need to grab something to aid us in the slaying of the beast." When he lifted his arm, he was carrying a wire cage with two red and white weasels snoozing happily.

Hermione had to cover her nose with her hand. "Oh Merlin!" she said, hoping that she wouldn't be sick in front of her two former teachers. "Do they always smell quite so pungent?" she asked, thinking that it was maybe one of the most horrible smells she'd encountered.

"Hopefully the basilisk will find it as appalling as you do, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a wink. "I thought that the smell of a weasel would be a more reliable way to kill it, rather than trying to get a rooster to crow down in a dark chamber."

She was unable to help but smile at that, wondering what Ron would think about the animal he was so frequently called being the one to take down the beast of Slytherin. It was somewhat poetic she thought.

The trio made their way to the lavatory, and Hermione quickly identified the sink with the small snake engraved on the tap. "Here," she said, showing it to Dumbledore. "This is how we get in. Only..." she trailed off, realizing that she wasn't sure _how_ they were actually going to get in. "I've only just realized that Harry is a parselmouth. I don't know if we will be able to get in."

"Albus, does this mean that Myrtle..." McGonagall said, looking towards the stall that the ghost usually haunted.

"Yes, Moaning Myrtle was killed by the basilisk's gaze, released by Tom Riddle," Hermione said, off-handedly.

McGonagall's face looked a bit white. "That means that Hagrid is completely innocent!" she cried.

"Surely you already knew this, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Yes, but well...there was always a part of me that wondered," she admitted. "But, now, we can have his wand reinstated!"

"First, let's get through this," Dumbledore said. "Although Hagrid is important, I am afraid that this takes precedence." The wizard handed the cage with the weasels to Hermione, before stepping up to the sink, his fingers tracing the snake. "While I am not a parselmouth, I can understand parseltongue. Perhaps I can give it a try."

The wizard proceeded to make a series of hissing sounds that didn't sound too different from what Harry could do, but even Hermione knew it wasn't right. It was far too stilted, not the smooth sounds that a snake would make. To their dismay, the chamber remained shut. The headmaster tried again, but had similar luck, unable to replicate the kind of tones that a snake would make.

Hermione bit her lower lip, her mind churning with ideas. She wondered, if parseltongue was simply the language of snakes then...would a snake be able to open the chamber? "_Serpensortia!"_ she said, waving her wand, watching as a dangerous red and black serpent emerged from her wand.

McGonagall and Dumbledore looked alarmed, stepping back from the coiling creature, watching them silently.

Before they could question her, she sent a stinging hex towards the creature, making it hiss and spit in anger. She waited with bated breath, hoping that she hadn't just pissed off the snake for no good reason. But then, rumbling from deep under the stones started, and Hermione watched in awe as the sinks began to move and rearrange, and the red snake fell down into the pit that was created.

Seeing the shocked faces from her companions, Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Wild guess," she said, before stepping towards the edge, looking into the inky blackness. She hadn't seen the Chamber of Secrets the first time, seeing as she had been sitting petrified in the infirmary ward, but she'd eagerly lapped up every word Harry and Ron had to share about the historically significant chamber.

"Keep your eyes closed tightly until we can be sure that the basilisk is dead," Hermione warned, before holding the cage of weasels tightly against her chest. With a deep breath, she stepped to the edge of the slide and jumped in. She wanted to scream as she went deeper and deeper under the castle, but she held her tongue, not wanting to alert the basilisk of her presence anymore than she surely had already done.

She landed in a pile of shed snake skin, grateful for the cushion to her fall. Standing up quickly, Hermione moved out of the way, giving room for Dumbledore and McGonagall to follow after her. Blindly, she fumbled with the latch on the cage, setting the pungent weasels free. She could hear them chattering as they made their way down the pipes, and she wondered if she should follow them.

When the other two arrived, she told them about how she'd let the weasels loose. "How will we know if it's worked, though?" she asked.

Before long, she heard a terrible screech, one that almost sounded like a scream, followed by a huge thud. Dumbledore smiled, finally lighting his wand to reveal what was inside the Chamber of Secrets. He began walking down the pipe that the weasels had, unbothered by the few inches of standing water that were getting his robes wet. "I think _that_ might be all the indication that we are looking for," he quipped.

Hermione cast an impervious charm before following Dumbledore, with McGonagall hot on her heels. When they finally found the open part of the Chamber that housed the massive statue of Salazar Slytherin himself, they saw the giant basilisk, dead on the ground, mouth open in agony. The two weasels were still chattering around their kill.

Dumbledore was already walking up to the carcass, using his wand to sever the fangs from the beast's mouth, large vials ready to catch the dripping venom. "Well, Miss Granger, I think that we've got exactly what we needed," he said with a smile, showing off his sincere happiness. For once, Hermione felt like she knew exactly what Dumbledore was feeling, as the man was typically very guarded.

"Yes, I think that we are ready for the next steps," she said, her heart fluttering in her chest. Now that they had the means, there was nothing stopping them from destroying the horcruxes. But, she was afraid to see how that would turn out.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I am so glad that you guys liked how i handled the basilisk and getting into the chamber! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-seven and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-eight soon!

* * *

September 1969

Rodolphus held the delicate coupe glass of the finest elf made champagne in his hand, using everything in his power not to down the bubbly before the speech was over. Salazar, Cygnus Black could go on and on and _on_ when giving a toast. Rodolphus supposed that he could understand why though. It was only once that your by and far favorite daughter was betrothed to a family like the Malfoys. They might not be as ancient as the Blacks, but they were as noble...and far more rich.

Narcissa Black looked excessively pleased, with her arm looped tightly with Lucius Malfoy's. Each of them had been granted leave from Hogwarts. Even Headmaster Dumbledore would not stop the students from leaving for a ceremony such as this. The purebloods would riot...more than they already were...if their traditions were not respected.

Unbidden, he thought of Hermione and how barbaric she would have found the whole thing, setting up two teenagers who'd barely gone through puberty together. He wondered if knowing that the two were absolutely gaga for one another would reassure her at all, but he was certain that their fathers' involvement would taint her thinking on the matter.

His eyes slipped to Bellatrix, who was scowling next to her sister, with Augustus Rookwood's arm around her waist. Rodolphus had to hide his smirk when he saw just how miserable the witch looked. _Well, that makes two of us_, he thought darkly. Clearly, her plans did not work as she'd expected them.

And Rookwood was quite the get for the Dark Lord. He had been widely considered as bright while he was in school, and Rodolphus understood that he was now working as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, something that was supposed to be secret, but something that the Dark Lord was only too pleased to share with his Death Eaters. He planned to infiltrate the Ministry at _every_ level, and Rodolphus was somewhat disturbed by his reach already.

Bellatrix met his eyes and he could feel the anger reflected there. Rodolphus couldn't imagine how she could be mad at _him_.

Before he could think on it more, Cygnus raised his glass in toast. "To Narcissa and Lucius," he said, giving his youngest daughter's arm a squeeze.

Rodolphus was only too happy to take a large drink, finishing off the liquid rather quickly. Turning, he looked around for a house elf so that he could get another glass. He was certain that the Malfoys would spare no expense for the engagement party of their only son, if the engagement jewelry that Narcissa was dripping in was anything to judge by.

"I suppose _you're_ happy with yourself," Bellatrix hissed from by his side. "Gloating."

"You only have yourself to blame for that, Bellatrix, if you find yourself with someone more horrible than me," he said smoothly, finally having located another glass of champagne. "Or your father. It's not as if I am the one who arranged it."

"If you hadn't been running around with that mudblood -"

"And if you hadn't told your father about it, we would likely be married now," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Don't feel too badly for yourself. My father hopes to have me engaged by Yule...if someone will consent to give their daughter to a mudblood lover. Maybe you should have tried the same strategy as Andy."

"_Don't_ talk about my sister like that," she sneered. Andromeda was clearly a touchy subject for the Black family. She was noticeably absent from the party.

Rodolphus shrugged his shoulders, not really wanting to argue with Bellatrix any longer. "Well, if you are finished berating me for something I didn't do..." he trailed off. "I've things to do."

He hadn't wanted to come to Malfoy Manor, but he'd been rather ordered to by his father. And, if he hadn't been there, he was certain that his absence would be noted by the Dark Lord as well. It was no secret that Lucius would become one of them one day, and it wouldn't do to be seen as not supporting one of his future brothers.

His father found him soon enough and brought him to talk to old Rosier, a friend of his from school and someone with two daughters who were being educated in France at Beauxbatons. Rodolphus didn't like the idea that he was being weighed and measured as someone suitable, but he stood there long enough, being uncharacteristically gruff and trying to seem menacing with his larger frame and tall stature. The kind of man that you would not want to entrust your daughter to.

Eventually, his father grew annoyed with him and sent him off, leaving Rodolphus to his own devices.

Rodolphus was able to slip off from the party then. Even though he was a Death Eater now, it did not mean that the others were very eager to have him around, considering the rumors that Bellatrix was spreading about him. He hated even more when they would ask for details about his affair with Hermione, sharing falsehoods about muggleborns that they had heard of. Or worse, whisper into his ear about their own flings and the ways that they had _dealt_ with the muggleborns when they were done. It seemed as if their prejudices only ran so deep, and sex was not included.

He left the massive ballroom behind and went into the marble entrance way. Malfoy Manor was almost too extravagant that it bordered on gauche. It gave off the air of new money, much like Abraxas Malfoy did, but he was finding quickly that it didn't matter as much as it once did.

There was no one else around when he made his way down the massive hallway, his steps cushioned by the luxurious runner carpet down the center, with portraits of Malfoy ancestors long passed. Few seemed to mind the intruder in their home.

He peeked into various rooms, finding Helena Malfoy's personal study. On the desk was an inviting tray of immaculately decorated macarons. Knowing that it was an invasion of privacy, Rodolphus couldn't stop himself from walking in and taking one of the cookies. Orange blossom filled his mouth while he thumbed through her date book, finding many entries for what could only be described as _training_ for Narcissa. Again, he wished he could share this with Hermione.

Her letters were neatly stacked next to some wax and a heavy metal seal adored with the Malfoy family crest. There was nothing too interesting inside of it, mainly just gossip about the varying pureblood elite. He wondered what would happen if he shared some of the details with the people who were gathered in the ballroom, but he was already too much of a pariah and he didn't think it would do well to purposely antagonize anyone else.

Moving on, he continued to enter rooms, finding various dining rooms, conservatories and even a dueling room. But, he was most intrigued by the library. It was easily the same size as the ballroom, and filled to the brim with books. He was certain that no Malfoy would ever be able to read this many books in their lifetime, and most were probably just for show.

Running his fingers along the spines, he looked for any unusual titles, but wasn't able to find anything that piqued his interest. They were sorely lacking in magical history and instead had plenty of books about potion making, and disturbingly, a very large collection that focused on poisons. Rodolphus picked up one manual that focused on the deadliest poisons and thumbed through it quickly, only to find himself disturbed by some of the included illustrations.

Unbidden, memories of times in the Come and Go Room with Hermione flooded back into his memory. He always had thought of the library in his own ancestral home, and Hermione always chided him for not focusing enough on the books. He wished he could go back now and show her all of the books, even if his family's library was not nearly as impressive as this.

Leaving the library behind, he continued his search down the hallway and found himself next in Abraxas's study. This room was far more interesting than Helena's personal office, dominated by a large fireplace ideal for flooing on one side, and a huge glass window on the other, overlooking the lush green grounds. Staring out into the gardens, he could see several peacocks milling about, and wondered if there was a more apt animal for the Malfoys to have, always strutting about, showing off.

He also had some bookcases that showed off a few rare books as well as some personal items. A crystal decanter of firewhiskey seemed the most interesting, and Rodolphus opened the top to take a sniff of the spicy liquid. _Salazar_, it was a vintage, Rodolphus realized, and poured himself a finger into one of the matching glasses - _much_ better than the champagne they were serving at the party.

As he continued to peruse the shelves, he found periodicals dog-eared excessively and an old telescope and even a displayed wand, that he was sure was just as expensive as everything else on the shelf.

He stopped suddenly when his eyes caught on a slim black leather book. Pulling it off the shelf, he felt almost giddy when he realized it was a diary. Opening it up eagerly, he wondered what kind of horrid little details Abraxas Malfoy might have written down in it. Rodolphus paged through it with glee, only to feel disappointed when page after page remained blank, even with a revealing spell.

Closing it again, he noticed that the embossed initial on the front of it was an R, not an M. _Curious_, he thought to himself.

Before he could investigate it further, the door to the study abruptly opened. Jumping, Rodolphus turned to face a very unimpressed looking Abraxas Malfoy. Hoping to hide what he'd been up to, he could feel his face flush at having been caught red handed someplace he wasn't meant to be. "I'm sorry, sir, I was looking for the facilities, and seemed to have lost my way," he lied smoothly, pleased when his voice didn't even break once.

"More like looking for my firewhiskey," Abraxas sneered at him, his eyes landed on the heavy glass that was still held in Rodolphus's right hand. "My free champagne isn't good enough for you? You have to sneak from my 1939 vintage as well?"

Rodolphus knew that no lie was going to get him out of this one, and tried to appear as contrite as possible. "I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, knowing that it _was_ wrong of him to have been snooping around like he did.

Abraxas stared at him, steely eyes unblinking while he thought about what to do with the young man. "Well, I suppose that you have good taste at least," he said, sounding a little bit smug. "But, I just might need to take payment from you for that swig of firewhiskey some day, Lestrange. Now...let's get back to the party, and get you back to your father."

The younger wizard bristled, hating the way that he was being treated like a naughty child, but then he supposed that skulking around maybe warranted it. "I think that would be best," he agreed.

As the two men made their walk down the to the ballroom, Abraxas couldn't help but give him a bit of advice. "You know, you should try and steer your father away from the Rosiers and more towards the Greengrasses," he suggested. "I hear their youngest daughter is quite beautiful."

"I'm not really interested in involving myself in marriage contracts," he said, sounding disappointed. "I will let my father handle it. But I am sure he would take your advice, after the fine match you made for Lucius."

Abraxas patted him on the back. "Don't sound so glum, Rodolphus," he said cheerily, stopping at the doors to the ballroom. "There is nothing stopping you from taking a mistress or two after you are married. Maybe even a muggleborn one. Just don't get caught," he said, showing off a grin and talking like he knew, before he rejoined the party, leaving Rodolphus standing on his own.


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-eight and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-nine soon!

* * *

September 1969

Hermione stood by Molly in the kitchen at the Burrow, peeling potatoes for the other witch's famous shepherd's pie. Or, at least, it would become her favorite shepherd's pie someday, having been a regular staple when they had been staying at Grimmauld Place.

Molly was recounting all of the plans that she and Arthur had to tie the knot in just another month, describing the alterations she was having done to her grandmother's wedding robes to make them more modern. As they were starting out without much help from Arthur's family, the wedding was going to be a quiet, simple affair, but Molly told Hermione that it suited them.

Having seen the single wedding portrait of the Weasleys in the future, Hermione could agree. They both had looked singularly happy and in love.

"What would you want for a wedding?" Molly asked, tasting the filling and adjusting her spices as required.

"I've never wanted anything too fancy myself," Hermione explained. "Maybe just a courthouse wedding." The other witch had never heard of something, and Hermione tried her best to describe what it would be like.

As it was, there was nothing equivalent in the wizarding world, seeing as there was a magical binding required for the ceremony, but Molly supposed it could be done at the Ministry of Magic if someone really wanted to. "Not the most romantic of locations, of course," she said with a grimace.

"Well, I don't suppose that it matters much any more," Hermione said, pressing a hand to her baby bump, growing more and more rounded each day. Although she still had several months before the baby was due to be born, she felt as though she had recently "popped". "It's not like anyone will want to marry me, anyway."

"Don't sound so glum, Hermione. I am positive that you will find someone that will love you and your baby," Molly said with a grin. "And not be afraid for the world to know it," she added, not having approved of the secretive way Rodolphus had conducted their relationship.

Hermione's heart clenched when she thought of Ron, and wondered if this Molly would have approved of him marrying her. Would her positivity extend to her own flesh and blood? She'd gotten the impression that Molly of the future had never approved of Hermione after her dating Viktor Krum became public knowledge.

Before long, the pies were in the oven, one tiny dish for each witch or wizard that would be attending the meeting that night. Although it was still not officially the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore had organized a group of like minded individuals and they were all gathering at the Burrow that night to discuss their plans for countering Voldemort.

Molly's brothers would be there, as would Amelia Bones. Professor McGonagall would be joining them, with Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor. Finally, Alastor Moody would be coming as well. Hermione was excited to see him once again, although he wouldn't have any idea who she was.

The Prewetts arrived first, and Molly introduced them. It made her heart ache to see just how much like Fred, George and Ginny the trio was, and she resolved to not let either of the twins be killed this time around. As she recalled, they had been felled by Antonin Dolohov the first time around.

Next came the Hogwarts contingent. It was unusual to see them out of school, meeting as peers and not as a student and teacher. Hermione supposed that someone must have filled Professor Kettleburn in as to her pregnancy, because he had nothing negative to say about it. "Miss Granger, aren't you glowing?" he asked in his thick Welsh accent.

"Please, Hermione is fine, Professor Kettleburn," she said with a grin.

"Likewise to you then - Silvanus," he offered, with a tip of his head.

Moody arrived through the floo just once the pies were ready and placed on the table, growling about the warding that was on the Burrow, seemingly finding Arthur's security lacking. "You ought to review this with him, Albus," Moody scolded. "Constant vigilance will keep him safe!" Hermione smiled, hearing his common catchphrase.

Molly fretted when Arthur still hadn't arrived twenty minutes after the proposed meeting time. "Oh, let's just eat, shall we?" she suggested, her hands wringing in her lap. "Arthur has a way of getting caught up in things at work, and well...he had said something about an enchanted...toaster, was it Hermione? On his way to work this morning."

The group did not need to be told again to eat and all happily dug into the meat and potatoes. Compliments to Molly came from everyone, making the witch blush prettily. "Well, I couldn't have done it without Hermione's help with the vegetables," she said, nicely.

Hermione shook her head. "It was all you, Molly! I'm afraid my skills in the kitchen are limited to chopping," she countered, not wanting to take any of the shine of Molly's hard work. "And even that's just from potions."

Gideon laughed from his seat beside her. "I'm surprised she let you help at all then!"

Before they could talk much more, Arthur was flooing into the living room, where the long dining table had been set up to account for all the guests. Under his arm was a tightly wrapped package. "Sorry I'm late," he said, breezing over to press a kiss on Molly's cheek, before stopping in front of Hermione. "I had to meet with someone."

Arthur pressed the package into her hands, and encouraged Hermione to open it. Loosing the twine and pulling back the paper, Hermione was eager to see what was hidden in such nondescript wrapping. Immediately upon seeing the black leather, she felt the sensation of dark magic, dripping down her spine like cold water and making her shiver back up.

There was absolutely no mistaking it - Tom Riddle's diary. A horcrux.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded, needing to know how they had gotten possession of it. "How did you get this? I doubt that it's owner was pleased to be parted with it."

"Well, I can't rightly say that it's owner _knows_ they've been parted with it," Arthur said cheekily, looking rather pleased with himself in the process. "It was brought to me, by...someone who shares our interests."

"Did you know about this?" she asked, turning to look at Dumbledore. When the older wizard nodded in approval, she couldn't help but wonder why she'd been left out of the loop. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, thinking that she and Dumbledore were going to work _together_ to locate the horcruxes, seeing as it was their combined knowledge that had helped figure them out.

"Is it the Diary?" Dumbledore asked, looking at her over his half-moon glasses.

Hermione nodded silently, knowing that she would recognize it anywhere, even if she couldn't sense the dark magic partially pouring out of it. "Yes, it's the one alright," she answered. She wished that she would have spoken up about the Diary before when she'd known Harry was writing in it. Maybe...maybe they could have figured things out in the future sooner if she'd just told Dumbledore about her suspicions that something was _off _about it.

"Excellent," he said with a pleased look on his face.

The Headmaster began to steer the conversation towards the reason they were all gathered there, only to be stopped by Hermione. "Don't think you can just get away with not telling me about how you got this," she interjected, holding onto the Diary tightly, feeling her anger rise. "I deserve to know."

Dumbledore sighed, looking at her for a minute, deciding what he was going to share with her. "We have, for lack of a better term, a mole in Voldemort's organization. They are a branded Death Eater, and we have been feeding them information," he revealed. "They were told to be on the lookout for such an object, and when they found it, they were able to bring it safely to Arthur."

Hermione's mind was spinning, wondering who it could be. She wasn't sure who had taken the mark in this time, but she knew that it couldn't be Snape. He wasn't even a first year yet! Maybe Abraxas Malfoy had flipped, if he thought the political tides were turning? He seemed only concerned with his family's own position in society, and she was certain he would be marked if he wasn't already. The others all seemed to jealous.

"Who is it?" she asked, wanting to know, needing to know.

"Yes, Albus, I think it would be best if we knew," Moody added. "It could be useful if we come across this mole during our work as aurors."

Dumbledore shook his head firmly. "No. For the safety of the individual, we will be keeping their identity a secret, until such a time that Voldemort is no longer a threat," he explained. "They are risking their life to do this, and I think it's best that we respect that."

Hermione did _not_ want to respect that, suspecting that she might have some foreknowledge from her time that could be useful. What if the mole wasn't as trustworthy as Arthur and Dumbledore imagined? It was putting _Arthur_ at risk, and she couldn't bare the thought of anything happening to him.

No one looked too happy to accept Dumbledore's assertion, but it seemed that everyone was also going to defer to him in this case. If he said the person's identity would remain secret, then it would remain secret. Even Moody stopped with his arguments after a while, sensing that Dumbledore was absolutely not going to budge on this one.

After that was handled, Dumbledore briefly explained that they were looking for artifacts that would be needed before they could try to kill Voldemort. He didn't tell everyone that they were horcruxes, but Hermione could see understanding shining in Moody's eyes. "Specifically, we are looking for something that would have belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, so if you see any curio shops or the like, perhaps inquire as to if they have sold something along those lines in the past decade or two," he said.

"Seems like a bit of a long shot, Headmaster," Fabian quipped.

Gideon nodded in agreement. "Yes, who's to say they will even remember twenty years ago? That's a big ask."

"We still need to _try_," Dumbledore said, a hint of exasperation in his voice that Hermione felt as well. It wasn't as if it could hurt...unless it got back to Voldemort that they were looking. "But, you need to remain as discreet as possible."

"So we are really going to do this? We are plotting a murder," Amelia Bones said, looking a bit uncomfortable with the idea of killing Voldemort, no matter how it was achieved. Hermione knew that she would eventually become the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and was pleased to see her strong moral character was still held in this time.

Hermione frowned, though, thinking of the alternatives. "We have no other choice, unfortunately," she told the assembled group, solemnly. "If we don't stop Voldemort, he will stop at nothing to take control of the Wizarding World and rid it of muggleborns, and then muggles next. He's worse than Grindelwald."

Moody balked at her words. "And just _why_ are we trusting a witch barely out of Hogwarts to tell us what we must do?" he wondered aloud, his two eyes boring into her just as deeply as his magical one would one day do. "How exactly did you come across this information?"

She looked guilty, knowing that she couldn't tell them about her true circumstances. It was already dangerous enough that Dumbledore knew. It would be terrible if word got out that she knew things that were yet to pass. "You just need to trust me, I guess," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, feeling very insecure in that moment. "But I promise that I'm telling the truth. And I will do everything in my power to make the wizarding world a safer place."


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I know there is a lot of intrigue...but hopefully you are enjoying the updates still. Can you believe that we are only ten chapters away from the end? Anyhow, here's the return of a familiar face. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-nine and be on the lookout for chapter forty soon!

* * *

October 1969

It felt odd to be walking around in Diagon Alley after having been holed away in the Burrow for so many months. Since June, she had rarely left the Arthur's charming little cottage, except to maybe make a few quick trips into the small village of Ottery St. Catchpole, knowing that it was better for her to remain unseen. She wasn't sure that anyone was looking for her, but on the off chance that they were, it was better just not to risk it.

She wasn't lonely at the Burrow. She saw Molly and Arthur daily, and members of their little group, still not yet named, popped in to see her now that they knew she was there. She quite enjoyed seeing Amelia who shared a passion for Arithmancy, and reminded Hermione rather a lot of her niece, Susan. She had a fresh perspective on the politics of the time, and seemed to know just how everyone in the Wizengamot voted. Fabian and Gideon stopped by too, and never failed to make her laugh. The more she got to know them, the more she realized they were not Fred and George, sharing none of their business savvy. If anything, they reminded her more of Bill than any of the future Weasley children.

Now, though, with Molly and Arthur newly married and out on their honeymoon in Brighton, Hermione and Dumbledore decided now was the best time to look for the Gaunt Ring that was possibly a horcrux.

Dumbledore had described and drawn the ring that Tom Riddle began to wear not long after his Uncle Morfin had died, toying with it constantly. They surmised that it was likely the first horcrux that he'd made, finding the timing too suspicious to be coincidence. Hermione had stared at the drawing for hours, committing it to memory, so if they found it, she would recognize it.

Planning to meet Dumbledore at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione flooed in a little bit early so that she could do a bit of browsing and have a bite to eat before they traveled to Little Hangleton together. After a quick sandwich at the pub, Hermione eagerly made her way out into the Alley.

Getting out was a welcome change, even if she hadn't been lonely. The air was crisp and cold and the colors had already begun to change up in the country, but there was no hint of foliage in Diagon Alley when Hermione began to walk around. She made a beeline to the bookshop, wanting to see if there was anything new, even if she wouldn't buy anything that day.

Flourish and Blotts was rather empty when Hermione made her way down the aisles of books. The new release of the moment appeared to be something from Bathilda Bagshot, and even though Hermione was sure she'd read practically _everything_ the woman had written at this point, she flipped through the pages reverently.

"Sweet _Salazar_," a familiar voice came from her left. "Is that really you Granger?"

Hermione turned to face a gleeful looking Bellatrix Black, staring down at her stomach with a disturbing level of excitement. "Bellatrix," Hermione said, grabbing her wand instinctually, the need to protect herself and her baby stronger than ever.

"Don't tell me you are _actually_ pregnant!" the other witch practically cackled. "And it _must_ be Rodolphus's. Salazar, this is amazing news."

"Rodolphus and I have nothing to do with one another," she answered, taking a step back. "So if you are still trying to break your betrothal, I'm sorry, I can't be of help." Hermione thought the pair of them rather deserved one another the way that Rodolphus had treated her in front of his father. She wanted nothing to do with either of them.

"Merlin, no, my father broke off our engagement _months_ ago, when I told him he had a mudblood mistress," Bellatrix smiled, one cheek dimpling, showing how proud she was of herself.

Hermione swallowed, wondering why Rodolphus hadn't reached out to her if he was no longer betrothed to Bellatrix. Unless...unless Bellatrix was never really an obstacle, and he would never be able to stand up to his father and do what he really wanted. "Well, I'm happy for you, then," Hermione said, wanting to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible. "You'll be free to pursue whomever you want."

"Not exactly," Bellatrix said darkly. "I'm engaged to someone else right now, and Rodolphus is with some Greengrass sister, though I can never remember which one. They all are so dull it's hard to tell them apart. But, once I tell everyone about his little halfblood bastard, no respectable family will want to touch him!"

A stone dropped in Hermione's stomach when she heard that Rodolphus was _together_ with someone else, especially someone as pretty as one of the Greengrasses. It was only weeks ago that he was holding her tight and telling her how much he loved her. It hurt to know that he was able to move on so quickly after everything they'd been through.

But, she didn't want him to _hate_ her if Bellatrix succeeded in telling him about the baby. It made her sick to think that having a half-blood child could make him so detested, but she wasn't going to be a part of that if she could help it. "No, Bellatrix, please don't tell him anything," she practically begged the other witch. "He doesn't have anything to do with it, I swear."

She already knew that Bellatrix thought she was loose for the simple fact of being a muggleborn, so hopefully it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to get her to think that she was sleeping with someone else, too. Before she could extract a promise from the other witch, a clock was chiming the time and Hermione knew that she had to meet with Bellatrix. "I have to go," she told Bellatrix, heading towards the door. "Promise you'll keep this between us?"

Bellatrix hadn't stopped smiling since she'd seen Hermione, making the Gryffindor's stomach twist in a queer way. "Promise," Bellatrix said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Wanting to put as much distance between them as possible, Hermione left Flourish and Blott's behind and made her way back to the pub, only to find Dumbledore waiting for her, wearing loud purple robes.

"You're late, Miss Granger," he said, shutting a small gold pocket watch when he noticed her. "That's uncharacteristic."

"Sorry, I just bumped into...someone, at the bookstore," she tried to explain, unable to shake the feeling of dread that lingered after her talk with Bellatrix.

Hearing that gave Dumbledore pause. "Anyone we should be concerned about?"

"I don't think so," Hermione answered truthfully, hoping that Bellatrix would keep her promise. After all, at one point the Slytherin had been positive that they were friends. Maybe Bellatrix would just decide to leave her alone, now that Hermione had nothing to do with her engagement.

Dumbledore gave her one last long look before nodding slowly. Ushering her towards the floo, he gave her a handful of powder before telling her the name of the pub in Little Hangleton, where they would begin their search.

The Mangy Boar was a _very_ small pub, but then again, Little Hangleton served a very small wizarding population. The barkeep barely gave them a look when they came through the fireplace together, after ascertaining that they wouldn't be paying for a pint or two. Heading out down the path, Dumbledore and Hermione walked in silence.

"This is well integrated with the muggle village," Hermione said, feeling a bit perplexed. There was almost no separation between the two and it left her feeling odd and exposed in her robes.

"Little Hangleton is an old village, populated well before the Statue of Secrecy," Dumbledore explained. "It's this closeness that allowed Merope Gaunt to meet and poison a wealthy young muggle named Tom Riddle, resulting in her child, Tom Riddle, Jr."

"Poisoned?" Hermione asked, not knowing the full details of their involvement.

Dumbledore gave her a grim look. "Yes, a love potion. She thought she'd gotten him to fall in love with her for real by the time she fell pregnant," he told her. "But it was never real love. That's the life that Voldemort was born into. That is why he is so evil."

Hermione wondered on his theory that the love potion could explain Voldemort's behavior. She wasn't sure that she'd heard anything like that before, especially considering there were likely hundreds of similar cases that _hadn't_ produced someone like Voldemort. However, she held her tongue, knowing that they were looking for a horcrux and not debating the power of love at the moment.

The Gaunt family home was really more of a shack, sitting in the shadow of what was likely once a beautiful manor home, that had been left to nature for sometime. The grounds were still immaculate, though vines now covered the stone, dying slowly in the cooler temperatures. The shack was almost unnoticeable, and completely dilapidated.

"This has sat untouched since Morfin Gaunt went to Azkaban for murdering the Riddle family," Dumbledore explained, pushing in the door with his hand. Inside, a lonely mouse scurried along the edge of the floor, hoping to remain unnoticed.

Hermione ducked in after him, feeling her eyes prickle from the musty smell. "Did he kill them to avenge his sister?" she asked.

The wizard answered sounded distracted while he levitated broken furniture out of their path. "No, I believe that it was Tom Riddle who killed his muggle family, likely hoping to erase them from his history," he explained. "Morfin confessed, but he was under a memory charm."

"So he is in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit?" Hermione asked, feeling uneasy. "Shouldn't we do something to help free an innocent man?"

"Morfin Gaunt, while perhaps innocent of _this_ crime, is not the kind of wizard you would want to free. He has committed atrocities that he simply wasn't caught for," Dumbledore answered.

Hermione felt uneasy, remembering how long Sirius Black had been left to rot in Azkaban after "confessing" to giving up Harry's parents. Had Dumbledore also dismissed the other man out of hand, letting him sit in the wizarding prison for over a decade before he escaped?

Before she could think of anything to say, she felt that familiar tingle of dark magic that she'd become attuned to whenever she was near a horcrux. She knew that she would recognize the prickle at the base of her spine for the rest of her life. "It's here. Can you feel it?" she asked her companion.

Dumbledore nodded, and aimed his wand at the floorboards. Immediately, nails began shaking loose, followed by wooden planks, pulling them back until the dirt floor was revealed underneath. Dropping to their knees, they began digging into the subfloor, looking for the horcrux.

It was Dumbledore's dirty fingers that first felt the zing of metal. Immediately, he called for her to stop digging and used his wand to free it the rest of the way. There, barely three inches under the Earth, sat a silver ring, with an unusual black looking stone set into the center of it - the Gaunt family ring. Levitating it between the two of them, Hermione and Dumbledore nodded in agreement. There was no mistaking it.

"That makes four horcruxes," Hermione said grimly, watching as Dumbledore pocketed it for safekeeping. "And, if we are lucky, only one remains."

"Made all the more difficult that we have no idea what it is," Dumbledore said in agreement. "Perhaps it is time for me to ask our mole to probe a bit further."

"Can't you just tell me who it is?" Hermione asked, the unknown driving her crazy. "I might be able to tell you something about them...their character, if we can trust them."

Dumbledore shook his head, looking at her cryptically. "Believe me, Miss Granger. It's for the best if we keep it a secret. You'll just have to trust me and Arthur."


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty and be on the lookout for chapter forty-one soon!

* * *

November 1969

Rodolphus could sense that something was different when this meeting was called. He still wasn't entirely used to the sting of his Dark Mark when the Dark Lord was requesting his presence, a feeling that would start out as an uncomfortable prick of a needle and steadily grow in intensity like the crest of a wave the longer you ignored it. It was best to make your excuses wherever you were, and aparate as quickly as possible. It gave the added benefit of seeming especially ardent, when really, he was just too soft to handle much of the pain.

This time, though...this time, something was different.

He had been trudging through another dreadfully boring dinner with his father when he felt the call. It seemed that his father could only talk of two things lately - formalizing a betrothal between him and Sophia Greengrass over the Yule holiday, and finding Rodolphus some other job once he completed his apprenticeship with Nott.

The calling seemed to have completely skipped the uncomfortable pins and needles sensation and jumped straight into the sharp, burning pain. Rodolphus couldn't stop himself from groaning in agony, ripping up his sleeve and pressing a hand to the ugly thing. "You aren't being called?" he asked his father.

"No," his father confirmed, unable to disguise the hint of concern in his dark eyes. "It's best not to keep him waiting."

Rodolphus did not need to be told twice, wanting to do anything he could to stop the pain, and apparated away from his family's estate to wherever he was being called. A sigh of relief passed his lips when he arrived. Looking around in confusion, he realized that he must be at Voldemort's personal residence, somewhere he'd never been before.

The office that he had appeared in had probably been opulent at one point, but it's luxury had faded over the years. The tapestries were left looking shabby and dusty, the fireplace had been stained by soot, and the couch appeared threadbare and faded. The only thing that appeared to have been kept in good condition was the well polished wooden desk, covered in stacks of parchment and rare books.

The Dark Lord sat behind the desk, pouring over an old map, and was seemingly unaware of his entrance. On one of the arms of his chair, Bellatrix sat perched, grinning at Rodolphus in a way that promised he wouldn't like what was set to transpire. She looked far too comfortable by half with the dangerous man, and briefly he wondered if there was any truth to her desire to be with the Dark Lord. Were they lovers? He didn't think that the Dark Lord was capable of something like love, but perhaps Bellatrix fulfilled a pesky human need in him.

"Hello Bellatrix," Rodolphus greeted, needing to twist the knife. "How is Augustus?" he asked, reminding her of her fiance. Augustus Rookwood was no wizard to be trifled with, either, and he wondered if he knew about the way his soon to be wife fawned over the Dark Lord, that she would happily kill him if it meant a relationship with Voldemort.

"Rodolphus," she answered with a sneer, her good mood vanishing. "He's just _dandy_. And Sophia? Has your father finally imperioed Garett to make his betrothal dreams come true?"

"Enough, Bella," the Dark Lord said, clearly not interested in the bickering of the two of them.

"What?" Bellatrix asked, hardly sounding innocent. "I just don't understand how he will get any self respecting witch to marry him when the stench of mudblood still lingers on him."

Rodolphus felt his cheeks heat up, wanting to defend Hermione and their relationship, but knowing that he couldn't, not with this audience. It would practically be suicide to talk back. He tried to think of some quip to throw back in Bellatrix's face, but he came up empty handed.

It didn't matter though, as the Dark Lord was talking then. "Yes, unfortunately, Bellatrix has been telling me about your unfortunate little dalliance with the mudblood from Hogwarts," he said with a frown. "Hermione Granger, is it?"

A shiver ran up his spine at the thought of the Dark Lord knowing who Hermione was. He'd already hurt her once, the thought of putting a target on her head made him feel even worse. "Yes, my Lord," he agreed, knowing that there was no point in denying it, not when Voldemort already knew the specifics. "She was a bit of fun before I got married," he lied, swallowing thickly. "But nothing more."

"And she is a mudblood?" Voldemort asked, raising one dark eyebrow.

"I didn't look into her blood status too deeply. I was more interested in what was under her skirt than what was in her veins," he said, hating the crass language. Oh, if Hermione could see him now, he was sure that she would kill him herself.

"Understandable, for a boy of your age," the Dark Lord said, though the disturbed look on his face indicated that he didn't really understand one bit. "However, this does pose a bit of a problem. When you joined my Death Eaters, I generally try to give everyone a fresh slate moving forward. After all, everyone makes mistakes."

Rodolphus stood still, biting the inside of his cheek so that he wouldn't rashly shout that Hermione wasn't a mistake...that joining the Death Eaters had been.

The Dark Lord stood from his chair, uncaring that Bellatrix was pushed off the arm in the process. "Having a relationship with a mudblood though is a bit more serious. It's reasonable that other people...your brothers...can't look past it," he said, moving to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. "It makes everyone question your loyalty. And I can't have someone who is supposed to trust you with their life wondering if you aren't _really_ a blood traitor underneath it all."

Bellatrix was grinning again, looking like the kneezle who'd caught the snidget. Like she knew something that Rodolphus didn't.

"I _am_ loyal, my Lord," he said, feeling his shoulders slump. Despite being bigger than the other wizard, Voldemort could always make you feel small when he leveled that red gaze at you. "And, I'd do whatever I could prove it to you. And my brothers."

"I'm so glad that you said that Rodolphus," the Dark Lord crooned, pressing his hands to Rodolphus's arms. "Because there is something that you can do. I need you to kill your little mudblood mistake. Then, I think you will have much better success as a Death Eater. And I think your father will have better luck finding you a bride."

"Kill Hermione?" he asked, feeling as though his breath had been stolen from her. "My Lord, I don't even know _where_ she is."

"I'm sure you can figure it out, if you want to prove yourself to me," the Dark Lord said with a grin. "Bellatrix saw her in Diagon Alley just the other week."

Rodolphus's eyebrows furrowed, wondering how Bellatrix had casually bumped into Hermione when he hadn't been able to find her no matter how hard he'd searched. Perhaps Hermione was beginning to let her guard down? "In that case, I think it should be no trouble at all," he said, his mind spinning, wondering how he was going to get through this.

The Dark Lord returned to his chair, effectively dismissing Rodolphus once he had heard what he wanted to. Bellatrix returned to her perch beside him, still unnoticed by the dark wizard. "Tell Hermione I say hello, Rodolphus," she said maliciously.

Rodolphus apparated away, not able to return home. Instead, he went to the little pub in the village by his home, needing time to think. Of course, this would suit Bellatrix perfectly. Either way, Rodolphus would end up miserable. He just wished he knew why she was so dead set on ruining his life.

Ordering a pint, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to do this. He couldn't kill Hermione, but he couldn't _not_ kill her either, unless he wanted to be killed by the Dark Lord. Despite his best efforts, Rodolphus could not see a way that this would end well, but then again, strategy had never been his strong suit. Hell, he couldn't even win a game of wizard's chess. He needed to speak to Arthur.

Sending off a little note, he waited in a back booth for the redhead to show up. It didn't take long before Weasley was flooing in, looking concerned.

"Lestrange," he said, head turning side to side to see if there was anyone there to recognize him, before he slid into the other side of the booth. "You used the code word. What's happened?"

Rodolphus pressed his hand to his face. "You Know Who has ordered me to kill Hermione to prove my loyalty," he said, feeling miserable, as if the weight of the world was on him. "And I can't...I can't do it _obviously_. Not when I love her. But, I'm not really seeing a way where this doesn't end up killing both of us."

Arthur looked stunned, as though it was the last thing that he was expecting. "Oh, wow, yes, that is quite the issue," he agreed, toying with the golden wedding band on his hand. "How did You Know Who even find out about Hermione in the first place?"

"Bellatrix," Rodolphus said grimly. "For whatever reason, she's made it her mission to destroy me. I think this suits her purposes perfectly."

Weasley was staring at the fireplace, perhaps turning plans over in his mind, thinking through the possibilities. "Don't worry, Lestrange," he said finally, his face growing hard. "We can sort this out. I promise, we will handle it in a way that...in a way that no one gets hurt."

"How is she?" Rodolphus blurted out, needing to know that Hermione was still okay. "Is she...is she doing well?"

"Hermione is good. Determined, happy," Arthur said after a beat of silence.

Rodolphus frowned. None of those things really sounded like happy, but he supposed that it did sound like Hermione. He couldn't stand that he had hurt her so badly and still hadn't been able to communicate how sorry he was. "Can't I just talk to her for a few minutes, Weasley? Just let me apologize to her and then I will leave her alone if that's what she wants," he begged, hating how the other wizard held all the cards.

Arthur frowned. "That's not going to happen right now Rodolphus," he said emphatically. "Especially not _now_ that you've been ordered to kill her."

"What? Do you think I actually would?" he questioned, feeling hurt. After everything he'd done, after risking his life for Weasley, without knowing _what_ or _why_ he was doing things, he couldn't believe that Weasley thought he would actually hurt Hermione.

"No, of course not, just...it's more dangerous for her than ever," Weasley said. He paused, looking as if there was something _more_ he wanted to share, before he decided against it, leaving Rodolphus to wonder just what was going on. "Listen...I promise that she is being well taken care of, and that...maybe one day soon you will be able to see her again. But you promised that you'd do whatever you could for her, and well, she doesn't need to see you right now."

"Well, what does she need me to do then?" he groused, wondering when he'd get his life back from the little promise he'd made.

"Just keep doing what you're doing, Rodolphus," Arthur said, looking tired. "And we will handle your order to kill Hermione, okay?"

Rodolphus felt himself nodding, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. Sitting tight and waiting was driving him mad, especially with the things he was expected to do as a Death Eater. But, he would do it, if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to Hermione.

He just hoped it would pay off.


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-one and be on the lookout for chapter forty-two soon!

* * *

December 1969

Hermione was barely able to squeeze into the booth at the Hog's Head, her pregnant belly having grown so round as the year and the decade came to a close. Waving off Aberforth Dumbledore's offer of a butterbeer, Hermione instead requested a glass of water. She'd tried not to cringe at the dingy state of the glassware when it was handed to her.

Her child had grown so large now that she could no longer feel the sweeps and rolls it would make inside her womb, but she could still feel the persistent kicks and pushes the baby made as it outgrew its little home. She pressed her hands against her skin while she waited for her companions, comforted when the baby pushed back against her.

A wave of guilt went through her when she remembered that Rodolphus had no idea that the baby even existed yet. Of course, they hadn't parted on the best of terms - _Godric_, she had been so angry at him - but she was certain that he would want to know about the baby no matter what happened between them. Her resolve was beginning to waver, and she wondered if there wasn't some way that she could let him know.

There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about him. Despite their distance and the way that they had left things, Hermione couldn't pretend as if she didn't still love him. She'd never given herself a chance to get over him, but there was some part of her that couldn't let it go. Maybe, with time...

Before she could grow more melancholy than she already was, the bell above the door rang and two new customers arrived. Dumbledore and Arthur saw her immediately and made a beeline for the table she was at. Although they were the only customers in the pub on a blustery Tuesday night, Aberforth took his sweet time in bringing them their requested drinks. Apparently, there was some lingering animosity between the two brothers, but Hermione knew that it was unlikely to be expanded upon that night.

"What's with the secrecy? Couldn't we just have met at the Burrow?" Hermione asked, wondering why she'd had to steal away, taking great care not to be seen as the letter from Dumbledore had suggested.

Arthur looked bothered. "Look, Hermione, there is no good way to tell you this," he started off with a frown. "But it has come to our attention that You Know Who has...become aware of you."

Hermione frowned. Merlin, she had hoped that she'd been unremarkable enough in this time so as to escape his notice. She wondered just what she had done this time that had caught his eye, knowing that she'd basically been living as a hermit since she left Hogwarts. She doubted that Rodolphus's father would have said anything about her, considering he'd have to admit to what his son and heir had done. It didn't seem like a very smart thing of the older Lestrange to do.

"How?" she heard herself asking out loud. "Was it...Bellatrix?" she added, thinking that the witch was the most likely culprit. After all, it seemed as if she'd blabbed to her father which is what started all the trouble in the first place. And, for whatever reason, Bellatrix had it out for Hermione because she wouldn't help her get out of her betrothal. Did she still hold a grudge even after she'd been freed of her engagement with Rodolphus?

She reminded herself of the time she'd seen Bellatrix at Flourish and Blotts, when the Slytherin had discovered that Hermione was pregnant. She'd promised that she wouldn't tell _Rodolphus_ about the baby, but she hadn't promised not to tell anyone else. Merlin, the timing was too suspicious for it not to be. "It must have been her," Hermione told the other two, looking at Dumbledore guiltily. "She's the person I ran into in Diagon Alley and well, she knows about the baby."

"It doesn't really matter _who_ told him about you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, disappointment reflected in his eyes. "What we need to discuss is what we are going to do about it."

"Oh right," Hermione said in turn, realizing that her situation was quite precarious. They were coming up on a time when Voldemort's Death Eaters wreaked havoc on the Wizarding World and where people "disappeared" all the time. It's what had created the Order of the Phoenix in the first place. "Can't I just stay at the Burrow? We've updated the warding and everything."

Arthur frowned. "It's not that I don't like having you as a guest Hermione," he said, his cheeks turning bright red. "But, it's too dangerous to have you stay there. Too many people know about it now and...and I just can't risk Molly's safety."

A knot formed in her throat. She'd just been so selfish she hadn't even thought about the position it was putting Molly and Arthur in. "Oh, of course," she said, trying not to cry at the table when she realized just how terrible this all really was. "I didn't mean...I just think that, I don't think anyone who knows would _tell_, but I understand. We can't risk it."

"We can't," Dumbledore agreed. "Arthur and I have been talking, and we think we've come up with the best possible solution. If You Know Who wants you dead, then...we will just have to fake your death. It's the only thing that will get him and his Death Eaters to stop."

"What?" Hermione asked, thinking that it sounded a bit preposterous. "Couldn't I just trick them into thinking I've moved to America or something? Surely if I am all the way across the ocean he won't care about one little muggleborn."

"Hermione, you know that won't work," Arthur said, reaching across the table to give her hand a quick squeeze. "They won't stop looking and it puts not only me, but also my parents in danger. Think of all the people who knew that you stayed with them while at Hogwarts."

This time, Hermione wasn't able to stop a tear from escaping her eye. She quickly wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, remembering how kind Cedrella and Septimus were to her. And little Georgie, who'd be halfway done with his last year at Hogwarts now. "Alright, what do we do," she asked, knowing that there was no other choice.

"I've found somewhere for you to live after tonight," Dumbledore explained. "Arabella Figg is an old associate of mine. She is a squib and therefore the Ministry did not keep a record of her. She has a spare room that she has offered to you. She lives in the muggle world."

"The muggle world?" Hermione asked, realizing that it had been over two years since she'd been in the muggle world for real. It would be strange to go back there, even if it was familiar to her. "You promise that you won't just leave me there...I want to - I need to help with You Know Who. I need to help finish this."

"When you can be useful, I will always use your assistance," Dumbledore agreed with a nod.

Hermione was struck by the way that he clearly saw people...based on their usefulness. She wanted to argue that she was just as invested in this as possible, but she also knew that if she was dead, she wouldn't be able to help either. "And you'll send me books, so that I can keep looking for Hufflepuff artifacts?"

"I can stop by once a week. Because of my job, I go into the muggle world on occasion, so it won't raise eyebrows," Arthur promised.

"Okay," she agreed, thinking that she'd be able to help, even if it was just in a small way. It wasn't as if she could do much dueling now, anyhow, so close to giving birth. Her stomach was too unwieldy now.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "All we need now is a strand of your hair," he requested, his blue eyes going a bit hard behind half-moon glasses.

"My hair? What for?" she asked, before the wheels in her head started turning. Unless they meant to use... "No, I absolutely refuse to let you polyjuice someone into me only to have them killed! I won't let someone else die on _my _behalf."

"This person is very old, and they have dragonpox. They know that they only have a week at most left to live," Dumbledore explained. "They _want_ to do this, because it is their way of helping out our cause. Please don't argue with us, just give us the hair."

"I can't," Hermione said, feeling her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"It's the only way to make it seem really believable, Hermione," Arthur practically begged. "Please, it's for my parents' safety."

Knowing that they weren't going to let this go, Hermione knew that she didn't have much of a choice other than to comply. She would just have to believe that what Dumbledore said was the truth about the witch or wizard wanting to do this. Reaching into her hair, Hermione twirled one curly strand around her finger before pulling it free, ignoring the pinch in her scalp.

Handing it over, Dumbledore placed the brown strand into a vial for safe keeping.

"So what happens next?" she asked.

"I will take you to see Arabella now," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid that there is no time for you to even go back to the Burrow. Unfortunately, no one else can know that you haven't really died, or else this whole exercise is pointless."

"I'll collect your things, though, and bring them to you tomorrow," Arthur promised. "So you won't have to wait too long for your trunk."

"But, Arthur, what about Molly? I can't have her think that I've died!" Hermione said, thinking that it would hurt her new friend far too much. "Please, I know we can't tell everyone, but can't you at least tell her?"

Arthur and Dumbledore shared a look, before nodding in agreement. "I'll explain it to her," Arthur said finally. "But everyone else...the Prewetts, McGonagall, my parents, the rest of the wizarding world will think that you're gone." He did not seem too happy to have to go to these lengths, but if it meant that it would keep everyone safe, it appeared that he was willing to do it.

Leaving her water glass untouched, Hermione gave Arthur a big tight hug. "I'm so sorry that I've gotten you into this mess, Arthur," she said, wishing that she had gone back to her correct time. Then none of them would have to worry about her.

"Don't worry, Hermione," he said, hugging her back just as tightly. "I'm sure that I would have gotten in trouble even if you weren't here. The Weasleys _are_ blood traitors after all," he added with a wink. "Now, you keep yourself and that baby safe."

With that, Dumbledore was leading her into the back room of the Hog's Head, where they could apparate without being seen. Taking his arm, Hermione allowed the Headmaster to side-along her to her new safe house.

When she opened her eyes, they were standing in a small back garden, with a high fence on all sides. A thin blanket of snow remained untouched, save their footprints. The house was small, but well kept, and it didn't take long before the back door was opening. A woman in a pink dressing gown and with rollers in her hair appeared at the top of the steps, several cats weaving between her legs.

"Albus, good to see you," the presumably Mrs. Figg said. "Come in, come in. It's much too cold to be standing outside all night."

Hermione took a step forward into her new home for...who knew how long she would be there. But hopefully when she left, Voldemort would be dead and the wizarding world would be free.


	42. Chapter 42

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-two and be on the lookout for chapter forty-three soon!

* * *

December 1969

"I have to say, Lestrange, I didn't think that you had it in you," Abraxas Malfoy said, handing Rodolphus his flask and offering him a pull. "I guess you have more of the ruthlessness of your father in you after all."

Rodolphus took a swig and recognized Abraxas's expensive firewhiskey that he'd knicked at Lucius and Narcissa's engagement party, needing a moment to steel himself. "Yeah, well, I was tired of no one taking me seriously."

He still wasn't able to get the picture of Hermione's lifeless body out of his head. A dead muggleborn found at the entrance of Knockturn Alley was enough to warrant a small blurb on the front page of the Daily Prophet, but he couldn't believe that they'd published a photo. Her face was unmistakable in the brief moment before an angry looking auror shoved his hand into the camera lens.

Rodolphus had to retreat to his room to cry after seeing his father's pleased looking face. He didn't know how Weasley and Dumbledore had pulled it off, but he couldn't allow himself to think that they might have _actually_ killed her. They had promised that they would take care of it, but he didn't think they meant they would actually take care of her. They couldn't have possibly meant that, but he hadn't been able to get in contact with Weasley to ask.

"Well, no worries about that now," Abraxas said with a smirk. "I think that you've impressed most of them - even Rosier, and he's done some twisted things...things you wouldn't believe. I'm sure he is pissed that your father has already moved onto the Greengrasses to find you a wife."

The younger wizard took another swig out of the flask before handing it back to Malfoy. He wondered why the other man was taking such an interest in him, but knew that Malfoy was primarily interested in getting ahead in life. Rodolphus wondered if he even really shared the conviction that many of the other Death Eaters did. "I doubt he thinks I am that much of a catch. Everyone still knows that I dated a muggleborn."

"Don't sell yourself short, Rodolphus," Abraxas encouraged, leaning his back against the wall.

Rodolphus wished that he could slip away from the Yule party, but his father was hosting once again and it would be noted if his own son wasn't there. All the Death Eaters were there, and even the Dark Lord was in attendance to partake in ancient pureblood traditions, celebrating the return of the sun. Rodolphus hoped that this would be the beginning of the end of the darkness in his life, too.

"The Dark Lord was very pleased with you as well," Abraxas said. "He asked to see you sometime tonight. Sounds like he has some sort of present to give you."

"That sounds ominous," Rodolphus countered, remembering the last time that Voldemort had wanted to see him on his own. _Hermione_. His heart ached.

Abraxas smirked. "Don't worry, it's not. You would know if he was upset with you, trust me."

"You? What have you ever done to upset him?" Rodolphus asked, thinking that Abraxas had seemed closest to the Dark Lord, being the public face of the policies that he wanted to enact, using his considerable fortune to push things through in the Wizengamot.

"Oh yes, I've misplaced something of his, unfortunately. He was so furious, I can still remember the feeling of his Cruciatus," Abraxas counted, with a scowl on his face. "I thought that he'd treat me with a little more dignity, but I suppose there are consequences to every action."

Rodolphus was surprised to hear that the Dark Lord would use the Cruciatus on his own followers, but he knew he shouldn't be at this point. It was no secret that he relished the use of the Unforgivable Curses.

Abraxas took another drink out of the flask, letting the silence spill between them. Rodolphus wasn't sure what his angle could be, but he could recognize that he had an ally in the elder Malfoy. For a brief moment, he even felt a little bit badly for thinking that Lucius was such a little shit.

"I wouldn't keep him waiting...you might just find that his good mood evaporates," Abraxas finally said. "He said he'd be waiting in your library."

Trying to fight back an internal groan, Rodolphus nodded in appreciation and slipped out down the hallway to walk towards the library. He'd hoped that he'd be able to avoid both the Dark Lord and Bellatrix this evening, not wanting to hear their praise for killing Hermione, knowing that it would crush him far too much.

The Dark Lord was reading through a book of Lestrange family history, having made himself quite at home. "Malfoy said you wanted to see me," he said, getting the older man's attention. "I came as soon as I heard."

"Rodolphus," the Dark Lord said with a smile, showing off his crooked teeth. "Yes, I wanted to make sure that I told you how...proud I am of you for taking the task that I gave you so seriously. I know that it must have taken a lot of conviction, but I am impressed with your commitment to pure wizarding blood. Centuries of Lestrange family breeding has been protected."

The younger man thought that was an odd thing to say. He couldn't understand the suggestion that killing Hermione would somehow keep his family's lineage pure. "Thank you, my Lord," Rodolphus said.

"Don't worry - killing gets easier each time that you do it," Voldemort added with a laugh.

Rodolphus forced himself to smile, if only to hide the grimace that threatened to show. "If you say so, my Lord," he said, thinking that he would _never_ find it easy to take the life of someone else. "I only wanted to show my commitment to your cause."

"And you have proved your loyalty brilliantly," the Dark Lord said, standing up, beginning to pace around the room. "Bellatrix insisted that you wouldn't have it in you to kill your mudblood. I know that Miss Granger must have been a delight to you."

Keeping silent, Rodolphus focused on the crack and pop of the firewood in the hearth, not sure what to say. He wanted to shout that Bellatrix was right - there was no way that he'd ever be able to kill Hermione on his own, and he would have been outed as the blood traitor that he was.

"Since you've proved yourself so loyal to me, doing what I ask without question, I am going to give you another task," the Dark Lord said, cracks in his genial mood beginning to show. "This is a task of the highest honor, but the most important part of it, is to keep it absolutely secret. You won't even be able to tell your father what I've asked you to do."

Rodolphus felt a shudder threatening to run up his spine. "Any way that I can serve you, my Lord, I will do my utmost to fulfill," he promised, wondering what kind of mess he was getting into.

"I know that you will," Voldemort said, smiling. "I promise that this task will be relatively painless for you, though. I have an...artifact that I need to have kept hidden. _No one_ can know that you have it," he said.

"What type of artifact?" he asked, unable to help himself.

"Best not to be too curious about it," the Dark Lord countered, before reaching into his voluminous robe sleeves and pulling out a small golden cup. "But if you must know, it's simply a cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff."

Rodolphus held out his hand, waiting for the other man to hand it over. "Just a cup? I'm afraid that I don't understand, my Lord," he lied.

"I'm not asking you to understand, Rodolphus," he answered, through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed by all of the questions. "All I am asking you to do is to hide this Cup for me and guard it with your life if you must."

After another moment of silence, Voldemort finally pressed the Cup into Rodolphus's hand. His red eyes were boring into Rodolphus's face, perhaps looking for any sign of recognition. "Thank you for trusting me with this task."

"Hopefully you will do better than some of your brethren. Malfoy proved utterly useless in this regard," Voldemort revealed. "And you won't like the punishment if you fail like he did."

"I wouldn't dream of it, my Lord. I will...put it in my family's vault at Gringotts," he said, thinking on his feet. "It's vast and the cup can be easily hidden amongst its treasure. The security that the goblins provide is second to none, especially in an old vault like my family's."

The Dark Lord looked impressed at the suggestion. "That should be adequate."

"And, any time that you wish to have it back, you simply let me know and I can take you to it," Rodolphus promised.

"Perhaps, once it's safely there, you should forget that you even have it," the Dark Lord suggested.

Rodolphus nodded, before hiding the cup in his own pocket. "Of course. If you don't mind, I will leave now and put it away for safekeeping until I can get to the bank," he said, needing to put some separation between himself and the Dark Lord once again, if only to still his racing heart. "Might I suggest that you return to the party - the ceremony is about to begin and father has promised that this year's entertainment will be the best yet."

Once he was given leave, Rodolphus hurried down the hallway and up his family's grand staircase to his room. Locking the door behind him, he sat on the bed and dug in his pocket to pull the cup back out. There was no denying that the Cup was more than merely an artifact. It had the telltale sign of dark magic all over it, just like the Diary had.

He knew then that this was the reason that Weasley and Dumbledore had asked him to hang tight and continue to do what he was doing. He knew that the reason they had to lead the world to think that Hermione was dead was to prove his loyalty to the dark wizard so that he might have access to another item. Rodolphus just couldn't believe that it had _actually_ worked.

Pressing a hand to his chest, Rodolphus fell back on his bed, knowing that he had to get in contact with Weasley as soon as possible to pass off the dark artifact and hope that they would be able to deal with it before Voldemort asked for the Cup back. He didn't want to think of the curses he would have to endure if he had to tell the Dark Lord that he'd lost it.

Then, maybe he would be able to see Hermione again and finally apologize to her for the way that he acted. Even if she wouldn't take him back because of the brand on his arm, he could only hope that she would listen to him and let him explain how he knew that he was wrong. He knew now that he would shout his love for her in the middle of Diagon Alley if she asked it of him.

For the first time in months, a true feeling of hope sprang up in his chest.

Placing the cup in his bedside table, Rodolphus set a series of wards on it, so that no one would find it. Then, he knew that he had to return to the party before his father noticed his absence and accused him of sulking again.

When he returned, the feast was already laid out and the wizards were filing in. Abraxas Malfoy met his gaze across the table, and there was a glint in his eye that seemed to suggest he knew _exactly_ what the Dark Lord had asked him to do.

Hopefully that wouldn't become a problem.


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-three and be on the lookout for chapter forty-four soon!

* * *

January 1970

Living with Mrs. Figg was not unpleasant, but it had Hermione vacillating between guilt and uselessness. The squib woman mostly kept to herself, though she was able to talk for hours about kneazle breeding. It made Hermione's heart ache for Crookshanks, her own bandy-legged half-kneazle. She hoped that Ron or Harry were taking good care of him in her absence.

Hermione felt completely unable to assist on any task to bring down Voldemort, save for reading endless tomes on the history of Helga Hufflepuff, which was turning out to be a rather dull affair. There was no endless lore about a lost diadem for the woman who started the badger house at Hogwarts, and it seemed that she had endless tea sets and bracelets and jewelry, all which _could_ be used for a horcrux, but none that seemed significant enough to look for.

Even if she was able to find some useful piece that they should be scouring the wizarding world for, Hermione knew that she would be held back by her pregnancy. As the decade died, Hermione had only become rounder and rounder with child. Once a very fit girl, Hermione felt entirely hampered by her new shape, her belly constantly getting in the way of tasks that were once simple. _Godric_, even walking up and down the stairs left her out of breath.

She could almost hear Molly's voice assuring her that it was normal - her baby's body taking up space in her body, pushing up against her diaphragm and not allowing her to breathe as deeply as she once did. Knowing that it was normal certainly did not make it any easier to live with.

Hermione could not pretend that she was not pregnant for even one second. Her little one seemed to constantly move and push and shove, kicking against Hermione's absentminded hand again and again, trying to remind her of the life that she had created with Rodolphus.

The young witch sunk into the window seat that looked out from her room onto the street. The sun was already going down, reminding her that it was just another day that she hadn't gotten the guts to write her ex-boyfriend and tell him about the baby. So much for Gryffindor courage.

She spent more hours than she cared to admit thinking about what his reaction would be. Surely, he would be upset that she'd kept it from him, but what would happen when the shock wore off? In her daydreams, she liked to imagine that he would be thrilled, that he wanted to be a part of the baby's life. But, reality was persistent, and it always crept in. Even if Rodolphus was excited about the baby, she wasn't sure that he would be able to do the right thing for them. If he wasn't able to stand up to his father about dating her, how could she trust him to protect their half-blood child?

Even worse was the sneaking suspicion that Rodolphus wouldn't be so thrilled about the baby. In all their time together, they had never really talked about a future, and most certainly had not talked about making a family. Would he command her to remain out of his life as she had done for the past seven months? Had he moved on to some other witch, better suited to him?

Remembering her last run in with Bellatrix in Diagon Alley, Hermione recalled that the Slytherin suggested that Rodolphus was going to be betrothed to a Greengrass. If this Greengrass was anything like Daphne from her year, Hermione was sure that Rodolphus would be smitten. Daphne was incredibly beautiful and pureblood to boot. The match was certain to please his father, and doing as his father said seemed to be the only thing that Rodolphus was interested in.

Convincing herself that Rodolphus was better off with some nameless witch couldn't kill the intense guilt that she felt for keeping her pregnancy a secret from him for so long though.

"Ooh," Hermione said pressing her hand to her stomach as she was overcome by a completely foreign sensation. It felt like her belly was growing tighter and tighter, until it reached some unknown point and then relaxed. "That was unusual."

Knowing that she couldn't just spend the evening talking to herself, Hermione descended the stairs, intending to help Mrs. Figg prepare dinner. "Pot roast tonight?" she asked the older woman, before grabbing a peeler and beginning to clean the potatoes. It was unusual to go back to an entirely muggle existence after being in the magical world for so long, but it was nice to have something to keep her mind occupied. Anything to keep her mind off of the queer sensation in her belly.

Mrs. Figg nodded. "It's Sunday," she agreed, having kept a tradition of preparing a roast every Sunday for as long as she could remember.

Hermione was halfway through her pile of potatoes when the feeling just couldn't be ignored any longer. Grabbing onto the counter for support, she let out a little huff of pain, catching the older woman's attention immediately.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" she asked, pressing a hand to her lower back.

"Um, I'm not sure," Hermione answered, feeling relief when the tightening was over again. "I've got this odd pain in my stomach, but it comes and goes."

"Only...now you can't ignore it?" Mrs. Figg asked, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Er, yes, I suppose it's grown more persistent," Hermione agreed.

Mrs. Figg let out a little laugh when Hermione still hadn't cottoned on to what was happening to her. "I can't believe you need an old widow like me to tell you what's happening," she said with a roll of her eyes. "You're in labor, Hermione."

Hermione felt as if the rug had been pulled from under her. "Merlin, it's too early!" she exclaimed, grabbing onto her bump.

"You're only a week off of your due date," Mrs. Figg said with a grin at her panic, seeing only the excitement of the situation.

"I know, but...I'm not prepared," she answered lamely, embarrassed at her nerves. How was it possible that she'd gone her whole pregnancy without properly preparing for the actual labor? She was Hermione Granger for fuck's sake! Feeling her knees go a bit weak as another contraction hit, she was even more disappointed that she hadn't realized she was having _contractions_. Of course that's what the oddly rhythmic pain was. "I don't have a bag to take to the hospital."

"I am sure that they will have everything that you need there," Arabella said, still sounding far too amused with Hermione's panic.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to remind herself to breath through the contractions. "And I don't even know where I am supposed to go? Can we just got to St. Mungo's or..."

Arabella patted Hermione on the lower back. "You know that we can't go to St. Mungo's," she said. "You'd be found out immediately... and Dumbledore's tasked me with keeping you safe. No, I will ring for a taxi to take you to hospital. Why don't you go prepare a bag while I do that?"

Feeling better with a bit of direction, Hermione returned to her room and began to throw together a few things that she might need, trying to remember all of the details from the books that she read. Of course it was better to go to a muggle hospital, but she wished more than ever that she would have someone she knew to help her through. In her mind, her husband would be there while she gave birth, and maybe her mum, but unfortunately that was just not going to be a possibility for her here in this time. No, she would have to be strong for her baby and do this on her own.

When she was as collected as she could be, Hermione went down the stairs, pleased to find that the taxi was already waiting out front to take her to hospital. "Thank you, Arabella," Hermione said giving the other woman a squeeze of her hand. "Do you think you could...see if Dumbledore could bring Molly Weasley to me? I'd really like to have her there."

"I'll get him the message," Arabella promised, before shooing her out the front door.

The drive seemed to go by in the blink of an eye and before she knew it she was waddling her way into labor and delivery. Hermione was overwhelmed by the beeping and the noise of all the muggle technology, trying not to worry about the advances that had not yet been made. Instead, she tried her best to follow the instructions of her stern muggle nurse as she stripped down into her hospital gown and got into the uncomfortable bed that she would labor in.

Her nurse was quite annoyed to find that Hermione didn't have a chart there, chastising her for not having gotten regular prenatal care. Hermione tried to protest, to promise that she had, but the nurse was simply not having it. Soon, the contractions became too intense for her to even worry about what the nurse was saying.

The pain was somehow more than what she'd imagined, easily the most difficult thing her body had experienced. Time slipped by quickly, but she knew that it was sometime in the middle of the night when it was finally time for her to push. Holding onto her legs, she could do nothing but focus on the doctor's instruction to bear down.

It was such sweet relief when she finally felt the baby leave her body and the doctor proudly pronounce that it was a girl. Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes when she heard the tiny wail of her baby taking its first breaths. "Hearty and hale!" the doctor promised, before the little girl was taken away to be examined and weighed.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione finally held her little bundle of joy in her eyes, taking her first look at the baby she and Rodolphus had created. Dark little eyes stared up at Hermione from beneath dark, impossibly long lashes. She was pink and perfect and underneath her cap was a full head of brown hair, wispy curls and all. Sighing, Hermione knew that it was the same color that Rodolphus had...just the slightest hint of red in the right light.

"Do you have a name, mum?" the nurse asked, holding a clipboard, ready to write it down.

Hermione couldn't hide the smile from her lips. "Daisy," she said proudly, looking at her daughter's perfect little lips. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn, apparently content with the name she'd been given.

"And the father's name?" the nurse asked pointedly. Clearly she had been suspicious of Hermione and her unwed status from the minute that she walked into the unit.

The witch blushed. "I'll file it myself," she promised the nurse. "Please just leave the paperwork on my table." She wasn't sure how safe it would be for her to register the birth, even in the muggle world. And, if she left the father's name blank, she would feel even more guilty than she already did for not telling Rodolphus about his daughter. More than ever, her heart ached for him, wanting to tell him about the little creature that had entered their lives. How could he possibly hate someone as perfect as Daisy? She knew that she couldn't keep avoiding her boyfriend for the rest of her life. She needed to speak to Rodolphus.

Disappointed that Molly had not appeared to help her with her labor, Hermione wondered if Arabella hadn't been able to get in contact with Dumbledore, or if he'd simply decided that it wasn't safe for him to bring the witch into the muggle world. In any case, she knew that she would need to speak with Dumbledore soon.

It was time for Hermione Granger to come back from the dead.


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-four and be on the lookout for chapter forty-five soon!

* * *

February 1970

As the weeks wore on, Rodolphus couldn't stand this new reputation that he'd garnered among the other Death Eaters. He hated the way that they talked about how he'd done up his old mudblood mistress. They never seemed upset or disgusted at the way that Hermione was killed, more gleeful whispers about how Rodolphus would do anything for the cause. When he was at school, he always had the reputation as a bit of a slacker, more brute than brains, but he hated the way that he'd been reduced to nothing more than a killer in the eyes of so many.

Especially when it wasn't true.

It was nearly impossible for him to face Flint and Pucey, not yet initiated, although they were being courted heavily. It seemed as though they were being worn down slowly, but that didn't mean they approved of what he'd supposedly done to Hermione Granger. They both remembered her from school, and while being intimate with a muggleborn wasn't something either of them was likely to do, they didn't villainize her the way the Dark Lord and his followers did.

Even worse was the way that his father was still so desperate to find him a suitable young witch to marry. He was still trying to get the Greengrasses to agree to a match, promising that Rodolphus had atoned for his sins. Somehow, he didn't think that an ability to murder former lovers was a quality that many parents looked for in a potential son in law. He wasn't going to tell his father that, though. It wasn't as if he wanted to marry the Greengrass girl anyway.

He was mostly just grateful that his father had as of yet been unable to secure a betrothal for him. The holidays had come and gone without an engagement, but Rodolphus was not so naive to think that his father wasn't trying his hardest. It wasn't as if Rodolphus would agree to it, but he wasn't looking forward to refusing his father.

Rabastan idolized him once again, now that he was a branded Death Eater. It made him sick to his stomach every time his younger brother professed his desire to join the group as soon as he was of age, younger if the Dark Lord would allow it. Rodolphus promised that he would do anything to stop that eventuality.

Rodolphus felt the constant pressure of the Dark Lord, too, knowing that he was holding an artifact for the dangerous man. Knowing that he could ask for it back at any time had Rodolphus's stomach in knots, especially considering that he didn't have it anymore. He didn't want to imagine the pain and suffering that he'd endure if he could not produce the odd little golden cup that had been entrusted into his care.

Finally, he had to deal with Abraxas Malfoy constantly trying to buddy up with him. Abraxas was certainly a good ally to have, there was no doubt about that. Well placed in the Ministry of Magic, it was obvious that he was a rising star in the government, and ambitious enough to do whatever it took to hold onto the power. But, it made it all the more odd and unsettling for Rodolphus to have the blond man trying to cultivate a friendship with _him_. Was it only because the Lestranges were held in high regard by the Dark Lord? If that was why, why was it that Abraxas wanted to talk to him and not his father? What did Abraxas think that he could give him that his father could not? Rodolphus knew that Abraxas wanted power above all else, but he wasn't sure how he could help him with that.

He felt as if he was being pulled in a hundred different directions at once. He didn't want to be living this life anymore, pretending to be someone that he just wasn't. The whole reason that he'd joined the Death Eaters in the first place was because Dumbledore said that it would help Hermione, but Rodolphus wasn't even sure that Hermione would want to look at him once she saw that hideous mark on his arm. If she was even still alive. He hadn't heard even a whisper about her.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, he demanded to meet with Headmaster Dumbledore once again. Sending the sternest sounding letter that he could, he insisted that Dumbledore meet with him, not Weasley. Perhaps sensing that he was teetering, Dumbledore actually arranged to meet him the same evening at the Hog's Head, with instructions to speak with Aberforth when he arrived.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to sit around all day at his family's home waiting to confront the man, Rodolphus left for Hogsmeade immediately when he finished his work for the day with Nott. When he arrived, it was clear that Aberforth was waiting for him. Ordering a firewhiskey to try and calm his nerves, Rodolphus waited at the bar, keeping to himself and avoiding Aberforth's attempts at small talk. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he was directed to a back room that was being used for storage.

Rodolphus felt his lip curl as he tried not to bump into one of the numerous dusty bottles that filled the space, wondering why on Earth Dumbledore would have found this to be a suitable place to meet. They weren't likely to be stumbled upon, but surely there was someplace better? Couldn't he have just flooed into Hogwarts?

The Headmaster arrived before he could turn tail and leave, looking much older than the last time he'd seen him. "Mister Lestrange, how are you doing this evening?" he asked, sounding more aloof than Rodolphus thought possible.

Feeling his blood begin to boil, Rodolphus snarled. "If you must know, I am losing my edge," he told the man who'd manipulated him into joining the Death Eaters in the first place. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Dumbledore."

"Don't say that," the older wizard chided him. "No one knows that you have been helping me, and Voldemort trusts you more than ever. The fact that he gave you the Cup is more than proof enough."

"He's growing more paranoid," Rodolphus said, swallowing thickly. He had not yet had to submit to one of the Dark Lord's _questioning_ sessions, but he didn't want to wait around long enough to have it happen. He didn't want his mind ripped apart and his treachery discovered. Even worse was complemplating what would happen to him after Voldemort knew he'd betrayed him. "Not to mention the only reason that he trusts me is because he believes that Hermione is dead!"

"He has no reason to doubt your loyalty, Rodolphus," Dumbledore answered, giving him a condescending smile, as if he understood what the Dark Lord was like, as if he could even fathom the anxiety that Rodolphus felt. "Please be patient. This will all be over _soon_. I promise."

"Be patient?" he questioned, doing his best not to shout at the other man, not wanting to draw undue attention to their little meeting. "I've been exceedingly patient with you and Weasley, Dumbledore. You won't even tell me if Hermione is really still alive! I haven't seen her for months now." Embarrassed, he could feel tears prick at the back of his eyes, wondering if he'd gotten Hermione killed.

Dumbledore stared at him over his half-moon glasses, absolutely no warmth reflected in his blue eyes. "You think that I could really kill her?" he asked, sounding offended.

"If the ends justify the means," Rodolphus answered with a sneer. He really wasn't sure what Dumbledore was capable of. "Wasn't that your same reasoning for having me join the Death Eaters in the first place?"

"Miss Granger is alive and well," Dumbledore said after a beat of silence, not denying Rodolphus's accusations. "But most importantly, she is _safe_. Not even Arthur knows of her whereabouts, only I do. This will keep her safe from Voldemort."

Rodolphus cringed at hearing the name. "Please, Dumbledore, I am begging you. I need to see Hermione with my own eyes or I just might go insane," he pleaded, grabbing onto his former Headmaster's arm. "I have done _everything_ that you've asked - I got you the Diary and this cup, too. And if I am honest, the only reason I did it was for Hermione. I need to speak with her...apologize...explain that I've changed."

"And you have no idea how much your assistance has helped Hermione," Dumbledore answered, patting Rodolphus's arm.

Rodolphus didn't find it felt comforting at all. If anything it only made his stomach sink. It might have helped, but at what cost? Would Hermione ever forgive him? And what could Hermione possibly need with the items he'd retrieved? How could she possibly need him to be pledged to the Dark Lord?

"But now...after the things that _he_ makes us do...I'm not sure that Hermione will even want to look at me again," Rodolphus said darkly. "I can't let another act stain my name. It might already be too late, but I am not going to do anything to make it worse than it already is. Please, let me see her."

Dumbledore stared at him, his eyes roving over his face, perhaps trying to read his sincerity, perhaps just buying time. But, eventually he let out a great sigh. "Alright, I will set something up," he said with a frown. "Although I think it might be too soon, Hermione has...expressed interest in speaking to you again as well. She has something she needs to share with you."

Rodolphus felt his heart soar at the words, knowing that the love of his life at least wanted to talk to him again. He wasn't sure that it was going to be a good talk, but it was at least a change that he could explain himself and that they might be able to be together again.

He wondered what Dumbledore meant about Hermione having something to tell him. Was she finally going to share her past life with him? She'd always promised she would once he stood up to his father for her, to fight for their relationship. While he'd failed miserably in that regard, even worse by continuing on with the farce of looking for a bride with his father, he wondered if she was finally willing to explain some of that mystery.

"When?" he asked, wetting his lips in excitement. He wanted to be taken to her right at that moment.

"I'm not sure. I will need to speak with her, and I will let you know," Dumbledore informed him. "Until then, just continue on as you have been. Don't draw any unnecessary attention to yourself."

Rodolphus shook his head, furiously. "No, no, I can't keep on being a Death Eater, Dumbledore. You don't _understand_ the kind of person the Dark Lord is, what he asks of us. I can't do it a minute longer," he said. Suddenly, he felt like he was drowning again, treading water, but feeling his head start to slip under water.

Dumbledore looked disappointed that he couldn't just keep it together a little while longer. "If you must...you could pretend to have come down with dragon pox or maybe spattergoit," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand. "Something so contagious that even your father won't want to see you."

"That could work," Rodolphus responded, his mind already whirring with plans to get out of seeing his father for at least a week. "And you'll contact me the minute you know?"

"As soon as I can arrange something," Dumbledore agreed. "Now, Mr. Lestrange, if that is all that you needed, I will take my leave."

Rodolphus shook his head quickly. "That's not all, I'm afraid," he said with a frown. Although Hermione was important, she was hardly the only important thing on his mind. "We need to talk about Abraxas. Abraxas Malfoy, I mean."


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-five and be on the lookout for chapter forty-six soon!

* * *

March 1970

Hermione was annoyed when Dumbledore never showed, or even sent word to her after her daughter was born. Arabella had sworn up and down that she'd gotten word to the Headmaster once she was in labor, but she had been left to deal with the muggle doctors on her own. Hermione was embarrassed to admit that it had taken several confundus charms for her to get out of hospital without anyone trying to register Daisy. It was not her intention to remain in the muggle world, and she needed as few ties to it as possible.

She was still frustrated that they hadn't been able to arrange for a healer to come deliver the baby at home. Of course, she was thankful that everything had gone well with the birth, but Hermione would have felt more comfortable knowing that there would be magic on her side with her healer.

After she got Daisy home to Arabella's house, she was left waiting and waiting for Dumbledore to send any kind of message to her that he was aware that she'd had the baby. She was beginning to panic and had to be talked down from returning to the Wizarding World more than once. What if Voldemort had found out what they'd been up to and killed Dumbledore? What if everything had gotten horribly out of hand.

When Dumbledore had finally stopped leaving her to languish, he couldn't even muster up the interest to wish her congratulations on her new daughter. Instead, he sat in Arabella's parlor, drinking tea. He told Mrs. Figg that he required her presence.

Hermione sat down in a huff, cradling the baby to her chest. "Her name is Daisy and we're doing fine, thanks for asking," she said, feeling irritated with the wizard seated across from her.

"I am glad to hear that," he said, setting his cup down, looking as though he was disappointed in her.

"Well, I am glad you care _now_. It's been _weeks_, Dumbledore," she practically snarled. "I really needed some support. I really needed Molly's help. You promised me that this was going to be temporary, and instead, I've been left here to rot!"

"It wasn't safe for Molly to come here," he chided her. "You know that I was just trying to keep you safe."

"You don't know what's best for me," Hermione insisted. Suddenly, all of Harry's anger at not being kept isolated after the Tri-Wizard tournament becoming all the more understandable. She was sick of Dumbledore making decisions unilaterally, and even worse, not explaining them to her.

Dumbledore frowned, sighing as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Can we litigate this later, Miss Granger? I promise we have bigger things to discuss," he answered.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Okay, what do you need?" she finally asked. Even though she was annoyed with the other man, she couldn't pretend that she wasn't thrilled at the prospect of being _useful_ again.

"We were able to locate the last horcrux," he said, sounding proud. "It was a Cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, as expected."

"What?" she asked, nearly unable to believe that they had actually found it. That things with Voldemort were actually almost over. Once they took away his backup plan, he could be killed once again. "How on Earth did you manage that?"

"Funnily enough, it sort of fell into our laps," he said. "I cannot claim any part in it, myself. In fact, the mole that we have positioned among the Death Eaters has proven their loyalty to Voldemort so convincingly that he was entrusted with the horcrux himself."

"What?" she found herself repeating, wondering how so much had occurred in the short time that she was in hiding. Just how did they get a mole who was so well placed within the Death Eaters that Voldemort would willingly hand over a horcrux? "Who is the mole, Dumbledore? You _need_ to tell me. This could be a trap."

Dumbledore gave her a wry smile. "Not a trap, I assure you," he said, sounding smug, knowing that he held all the valuable information in this discussion. "But I won't keep it a secret much longer. I plan on destroying the horcruxes tonight, but wanted to offer you the chance to assist."

Hermione bristled at how magnanimous Dumbledore thought he was being. Oh, he'd _allow_ her to assist with destroying the horcruxes? He wouldn't even know about them if it wasn't for her! She was seething at the way he'd treated her, shoving her aside and expecting her to sit until she was needed. But, she also wasn't going to pass up on the chance to take down Voldemort for good. This had been a part of her life since she was twelve years old and she wasn't just going to do what she was told.

"Of course I will help you destroy the horcruxes," she told him, with a tight smile on her face. In her lap, Daisy squirmed and wiggled, sensing her mother's bad mood. "I can't believe you even had to ask. Arabella would be happy to watch Daisy for the evening, wouldn't you, Ar?"

The older witch stood in her house robe and curlers clutching the door jam of the kitchen, a guilty look on her face for being caught eavesdropping. "'Course I would, Hermione," she agreed. "Daisy is such a little sweet one. A good baby."

"Excellent, there is no reason to delay then," Dumbledore said, before offering Hermione his arm to side-along.

Once she had kissed her baby's cheek goodbye and ensured that she was settled in with Arabella, Hermione took Dumbledore's arm. The moment she did, he was already pulling her through space.

Hermione blinked when she realized where they were. Tears pricked at her eyes when she saw that she was at the Burrow once again. Arthur Weasley stood in front of his house, his eyes warm when they settled on her form for the first time in months. She ran the short distance between them, wrapping her friend up in a tight hug.

"Merlin, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Hermione," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders so that he could get a good look at her. "You don't even look like you _had_ a baby. Tell me - is it a boy or a girl? What's their name?"

"Daisy, she's a love," Hermione gushed. "I can't wait for you and Molly to meet her."

"Congratulations. I am sure she is as beautiful as her mother," he said. "Molly and I actually just found out...she's pregnant, due at the end of November."

"Oh, Arthur, that is fantastic!" Hermione congratulated her friends. Her heart was aching, seeing how proud Arthur was of his future child - Bill - before he even held the child for the first time. A fresh pang of guilt filled her when she thought of how she'd robbed Rodolphus of that opportunity. She would have to speak to Dumbledore about contacting him. But first-

"As much as I hate to cut this reunion short, we do have something else to take care of first," Dumbledore said. "Arthur, do you have the items?"

"Yes, right here," the younger wizard answered, before picking up a sack.

"Shall we just put them into a pile and dump the basilisk venom on them all? Do it all in one fell swoop?" Hermione suggested.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, before dumping the contents of the bag out on the grass. The diadem, diary, ring, cup, and locket didn't take up much room, but they did represent so much history, Hermione felt bad that there wasn't anyway to save them from certain destruction. But, if the only way to rid the world of true evil like Voldemort, Hermione would destroy them a thousand times over.

Dumbledore pulled a large container of basilisk venom out of his sleeve. There was so much more than Hermione had thought there would be, but she supposed that the basilisk from the chamber was much bigger than your typical one.

"I'll just create a shield so that we don't get any splatter on us," Hermione offered, before pulling out her own wand. "And then, you'll just pour it on, Dumbledore?"

With the Headmaster in agreement, Hermione created the shield and held her breath as he unstoppered the venom and tilted the container. She had absolutely no idea what was going to happen and she knew that all three of them would have to be on the ready. She watched as the dark green liquid streamed out, her heart pounding as time seemed to slow before the first drop hit the Diadem.

Immediately, an unholy screech like a hundred mandrakes filled the clearing and it was nearly enough to make Hermione drop her shield in order to cover her ears in pain. But somehow, she held on. "Don't stop pouring! Use it all!" she shouted, hoping the Headmaster would hear over the sound. After what seemed like an eternity, wisps of black smoke rose from the items, disappointing in the cold evening air.

Once all the venom was gone, the horcruxes remained in a mangled mass of metal, their previous form completely unknown. The grass was completely burnt from the venom, leaving an oddly shaped circle of dirt behind.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Arthur said, once it was all done.

"Yes, I expected them to put up more of a fight," Hermione said, remembering the way that the Diary version of Tom Riddle had fought Harry in his second year. But there was no denying that the horcruxes were fully destroyed. The stain of dark magic no longer chilled her.

Hermione turned to the Headmaster, placing her hands on her hips. "Don't think that you can distract me from our discussion. I still _need_ to know who the mole is, even though this wasn't a trick," she insisted. "He might be a double agent for Voldemort."

"As it happens, the mole is waiting inside the Burrow right now, being sternly lectured by one Molly Weasley," Dumbledore said with a smirk. "If you wanted to meet him."

She swallowed thickly. Of course, there was practically nothing that he could do to stop her from meeting the mole. Turning on her heel, she marched off towards the Burrow, unsure of what she was going to find in the cheery little kitchen. Who could it be, she wondered, her mind running through Death Eaters that she was aware of.

Throwing the door open, she felt her heart stop when her eyes settled on the form of the man she'd given her heart to all those months ago. She felt a lump form in her throat when she realized that the mole had been Rodolphus all along.

He looked up when he heard her gasp, standing from his chair so abruptly that it was knocked back. His blue eyes lit up in surprise and awe when he saw her. "Hermione," he said, his voice full of fondness. "It's really you."

Rodolphus closed the distance between them. He grabbed her, his hands cupping her jaw, before pulling her in for a kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion into her, filling her up with love once again. Hermione could feel herself melting against him, surprised by how _good_ it felt to be in his arms once again. He felt like _home_.

He deepened the kiss for just a moment, before he pulled back. "Salazar, I've missed you so much," he confessed, before using his thumbs to wipe at the wetness on her cheeks. "You are crying," he added with a fond smile.

Hermione could feel herself getting choked up. "Merlin, Rodolphus, I've missed you, too," she told him honestly, all the hurt of their last meeting melting away. "You were the mole? You've been helping us..."

"Yes, listen, I have so much I need to say to you," he cut her off, a dark look of shame coming over his face.

She bit her lower lip, remembering little Daisy tucked away in Muggle London. "I've got something I need to tell you, too."


	46. Chapter 46

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-six and be on the lookout for chapter forty-seven soon!

* * *

March 1970

Rodolphus was looking at her like she hung the moon, and it was easy for Hermione to simply forget all the pain and heartache that he'd caused her all those months ago. Now that the wounds were no longer fresh, there was a small part of her that wanted to just throw caution to the wind and tell him that there was nothing to explain, and allow herself to be wrapped in his embrace once again. But, it wasn't that simple. Rodolphus wasn't aware of it yet, but she had hurt him, too, and if she didn't tell him the truth - _all_ of it - she was positive that there would be no chance for them whatsoever.

"Whatever you have to tell me can wait," he said, cupping her jaw gently once again. "Ever since you left my flat in June...the second, really, I knew that I'd made a horrible mistake. I should have told my father to shove it once and for all, instead of letting him control my life, like I always do."

"You weren't expecting to have to confront him that day," Hermione said, eyebrows furrowing, wondering why she was trying to make excuses for him.

"Still, you had been telling me...the whole time that we were together, you begged me to stand up to my father about our relationship," he said, shaking his head, wanting to accept responsibility. "But I kept pushing it off, thinking that I could just keep you forever, without anyone ever the wiser."

Hermione could feel tears prickle at the back of her eyes once again, a thick knot forming in her throat. "What were you going to do when Bellatrix and you finally got married though?" she croaked. "You couldn't have possibly thought I would be okay with being your mistress."

Rodolphus's cheeks went a bit red. "I'm not sure that I really thought that far ahead. Bella was so determined to end our engagement, that I thought she would sort of handle things for me," he said lamely, running a hand through his hair. "It obviously wasn't a very _good_ plan."

"Well, even though it hurt me, I am a little bit glad that Bellatrix had the balls to tell her father about you and I," she said with a frown, conflicted on how she really felt. "Otherwise, I am certain that the two of you would have ended up married. And then what would have become of you?" She gave his hand a quick squeeze of support.

"Hermione Granger, such language," he said with a wry smile. "But I suppose you are right. Don't worry, Bellatrix didn't get off scot-free. She is now Mrs. Bellatrix Rookwood, and let me tell you, Augustus is _far_ less lenient with her than I would have been."

"I hope they make each other perfectly miserable," Hermione said snidely. Then she remembered what Bellatrix said about Rodolphus and his own engagement. "And you?" she asked, biting her lower lip. "Bellatrix mentioned something about you and Sophia Greengrass?"

Rodolphus shook his head. "My father hasn't been able to finalize anything, but even if he tries to, he would never get me to agree," he promised, lifting her hand so he could press a kiss to the back of her hand. "I'm of age now, so there is nothing he can do about it if I refuse, when I refuse."

For a moment, Hermione could only feel the lovely buoyancy of hope swelling in her heart with the knowledge that Rodolphus _didn't_ want some pureblood witch, but instead there was still the possibility, the chance, that he would want to be with her. But then, the movement of his arm caused his sleeve to fall back, exposing the hint of black ink that was enough for Hermione to recognize the Dark Mark. Pushing his sleeve up, she frowned, feeling a fresh round of tears spring in her eyes. "I didn't want this for you," she whispered, fingertips caressing the aberration.

"I never wanted it either, Hermione," he swore, a shameful look on his face. "And, please know that I never would have even joined if Dumbledore and Weasley hadn't told me that it would help you."

Hermione looked over his shoulder to where the Headmaster and her friend were now standing, surreptitiously _not_ listening into their conversation. Arthur's face was bright red with embarrassment at being caught, and Hermione couldn't help but glare at him. Oh, how could they have ever told Rodolphus that becoming a Death Eater would help her? "You shouldn't have risked yourself like that. I can only imagine the danger that you were in," she scolded him, half-heartedly.

"Well, I got that journal and the golden cup that the Dark Lord gave me, and well, you needed it, didn't you?" he asked, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"He just gave it to you?" Hermione asked, feeling utterly shocked, wondering what Rodolphus must have done to gain Voldemort's trust, but then she decided that she didn't want to know.

Rodolphus gave her a quick jerk of his chin in agreement. "And, I'd do it again, if only for the chance to see you again and tell you just how sorry I am," he said with a frown. "And, to tell you that I still love you, and well, if you'd ever consider giving me another chance, I'd...I'd promise never to mess up again. You'd be my first priority, and my father can go stuff it."

Hermione grinned at his inelegant apology, but already knew that she was going to accept it. After all he'd done for her, he'd more than proved his commitment to her. "Of course, I can forgive you Rodolphus," she said, biting her lower lip. "And, I'd love to give things another chance, but first...there is something I need to tell you as well. Two things really."

"Whatever it is, I am sure that it won't change my mind," he insisted.

But, as easy as it would be to hide the fact that she came from the future, she wanted to start things with him on a completely fresh slate, and that meant telling him the _whole_ truth. "Maybe it's best if we sit down and speak about this privately," she told him, taking his arm, and gently guiding him up the stairs to the room that she slept in when she'd been living with the Weasleys. Once the door was shut behind them, she set up various anti-eavesdropping spells. Even if she could reveal the whole truth to Rodolphus, she didn't necessarily want Arthur and Molly knowing, too.

Rodolphus sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to disguise the way that he was uncomfortable with the comfortable but obviously homemade quilt that covered the end. "Well, go on then," he said when he met her worried eyes, acting with false bravado.

"Remember when we first met, and how I tried to avoid you as much as possible?" Hermione asked him, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. "You always asked what you'd ever done to make me act that way?"

He swallowed, but nodded his head. "It didn't matter. I got you to warm up to me eventually."

"Well, it's because I already knew you," she explained, wondering what the best way to explain their situation was. Seeing Rodolphus protest, she cut him off. "I knew you from another time, because...well, you see...there is no easy way to say this, but I am from the future -1996 in fact."

"Impossible," he said with a disbelieving look on his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We live in a world where a person can transform themselves into an animal, and you think time travel is impossible," she countered. "Well, it doesn't really matter how improbable it seems, but it's the truth. I knew you then. Well, more like I knew of you. You were infamous after you tortured two young aurors into permanent insanity with your wife, Bellatrix, and your brother. The night that I was sent back, we were actually fighting with you in the Department of Mysteries. Your brother shoved me into a shelf of time turners and well, here I am."

Rodolphus looked utterly stunned and sat in silence for at least a minute while Hermione paced in front of him.

"Well, please say something Rodolphus," she urged.

"That's what you meant when you said...you didn't want this for me," he said, frowning at the Dark Mark on his arm.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "You were a Death Eater then, too. Probably one of Voldemort's favorites. But...that doesn't really matter now. I _know_ you Rodolphus, and you could never become the man that I knew from before. You are too good. You have sacrificed so much already."

"Am I good, though?" he asked out loud. "You don't know all the things I've done, all the disgusting conversations I've been privy too while I was marked," he choked out. "And, if I became that man once before, surely, he is still inside of me. Salazar, how can you want me, knowing that?"

"Because you've made different decisions now. Your life is headed on a different course. That man from before could never have loved a muggleborn," she said, feeling great relief that he'd taken her first reveal so much better than she expected. Instead of being mad at her for not telling him, he was only worried about the possible path his life could have taken.

She sat down on the bed next to him. "There is something else I have to tell you, something worse," she said, staring down in her lap. "Something, I don't know if you can forgive me for."

Rodolphus turned his body towards hers, cupping her face in his hands once again. "Whatever it is, Hermione, I don't even need to know," he begged, shaking his head. "I will forgive you, no matter what. It couldn't change the way that I think of you."

Taking a deep breath and gathering every _ounce_ of Gryffindor courage that she had, Hermione squared her shoulders. "I was pregnant," she said, watching as understanding sunk in, before she saw the clear worry in his eyes. "You have a daughter, Rodolphus."

Hermione could see the muscles in his jaw tighten and relax as he tried to think of words to say. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice sounding hurt and small.

"I wasn't sure how you would react...how your father would react," she explained, as tears ran down her cheek. "And then I had to go into hiding. By then, I wanted to tell you so badly, but I didn't know _how_ to contact you, and I felt _so guilty_, you have no idea. It was the worst decision I ever made not to tell you and if I could take it back I would."

"What's her name?" he asked, after a beat of silence.

"Daisy," Hermione revealed. "I haven't given her a middle name or a family name yet, because I wasn't sure how involved you'd want to be. If you'd even want to be with us again."

"Of course I want to be with you," he said, clearly annoyed by her assumptions. "I'm...I'm furious really, that you wouldn't tell me. Think of all the things I've missed...of my child's birth, but...I know that I forgive you already, for giving me such a gift. I don't think that I can sit her for another minute without seeing her, though. Please, can I meet my daughter?"

Hermione laughed at his words, just glad that he was willing to give her a chance. "Yes, of course you can, I wouldn't dream of keeping you away from her," she said with a grin. Grabbing his arm, she gave almost no warning before she was apparating with him into the back garden of Mrs. Figg's home. Taking him inside, she greeted Arabella before snuggling little Daisy up in her arms.

Watching Rodolphus hold her in his arms, was something that would be seared into Hermione's heart for the rest of her life. He held her as if she was the most precious, most wonderful thing that he'd ever seen. She didn't want to miss a moment of it, not even to let Arthur and Dumbledore know where they'd gotten off to.

They would just have to understand.


	47. Chapter 47

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-seven and be on the lookout for chapter forty-eight soon!

* * *

May 1970

While Beltane was not the most significant of the pureblood traditional holidays, Rodolphus knew that the Death Eaters would celebrate to its fullest anyway. The party was going to be held at the country manor home of the Rosiers, leaving Evan Rosier to organize the massive bonfires that would burn through the night while they celebrants ate and drank to their heart's content, each taking their turn at wooing the May Queen.

Somehow, it had been left to Abraxas Malfoy to procure the May Queen this year. It was certainly not an envious honor, the young girl spending most of the evening tied to the maypole, sweating from the heat of the flames, only to be let down when she selected her partner for the evening. There was a reason why none of the assembled men would offer up their daughters or sisters for the role.

Still, Rodolphus could appreciate some aspects of the May Queen ritual when he watched Hermione dress in the gauzy robes, shimmering with gold, the outline of her body sure to be seen. He leaned back against the headboard in their shared accommodation, wishing that he might keep her for his eyes only, but then, Hermione had never been able to sit behind out of the action, even now that she had Daisy to worry about. She would angrily insist that it was _because_ of Daisy that it was all the more important for her to participate.

With her vinewood wand artfully tucked in her bouquet of hawthorne and primrose, she looked at herself in the mirror one last time before determining that she was ready. Giving him a nod, she led the way out of their bedroom.

Molly Weasley was waiting there with Daisy on her lap. "Is that really what they are making you wear?" she asked, not bothering to hide her disgust. "Godric, now I know why mother and father never kept to the old ways. I'll have to ask Arthur what his family did."

"It leaves much to be desired," Hermione agreed, before picking up the baby and pressing a half dozen kisses to her chubby cheeks, while she cooed and smiled. "I don't think the Weasleys participate...or at least, I didn't see any evidence while I lived with them."

"Cedrella must have," Molly said, a bit uncharitably, still in a fued with her mother-in-law. "She was a Black after all."

"Her father never would have allowed her to participate in something like this," Rodolphus said, only to be on the receiving end of Molly's famous glares. It was clear that she never quite forgave him for what had transpired between him and Hermione, even if Hermione was able to move on from it. "Well, we need to be going."

Hermione reluctantly handed Daisy back to Molly, who would be watching the baby while they were at the ritual. "If anything happens...you'll keep her safe?" she asked.

Molly nodded. "Of course, Hermione. I'll protect her like she was my own," she promised. "But nothing is going to happen, because Gid and Fabian and Moody will be ready to step in at a moment's notice."

It was going to be dangerous, that was certain, but they all knew their plan was too far along to back out of now.

Each taking a handful of floo powder, Hermione and Rodolphus stepped into the fireplace and out to Malfoy Manor, where Abraxas was waiting for them, looking far too chipper. Catching Hermione as she stumbled out, he pressed his hands on her bare arms, grinning down at her.

"So this is the delightful Miss Granger," Abraxas said with a lascivious look. Raising his eyebrow at Rodolphus, he clearly communicated his approval of her looks. "I can see why you were so taken with the witch," he added, his hand dropping to touch the top of her bum.

Hermione wrenched herself free of his grasp, not hesitating to send a stinging jinx his way. "I'll have you keep your hands off of me," she insisted, more than taking care of herself.

"Oh, ho," Abraxas grinning, clapping Rodolphus on the shoulder. "And so _feisty_ as well. You better get used to it, Miss Granger. A squeeze of your arse will be the least of your worries when you are on the maypole."

Rodolphus didn't like the idea of everyone touching her, but he knew that everyone wouldn't be too grabby with her so early in the night. That would come after they'd gotten drunk on homemade black mead.

"I'll go first," Rodolphus offered, not wanting Hermione to be alone with Death Eaters for any moment of time, even if he would be following right behind. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he wished Hermione good luck before heading to Rosier's.

There was a house elf waiting for him with offered hand. He'd barely had time to brush his robes clean before the little thing was transporting him out to the field where they'd be celebrating. A massive table stood at one end of the clearing, overflowing with food and horns for drinking. At the other end, some of the assembled wizards were trying to light the two large piles of wood for the bonfire, using only sticks and some friction to create the spark. Of course, it would be easiest to use magic, but that wasn't the old way.

Looking around, he saw his father, but he didn't see any sign of the Dark Lord, yet. He wouldn't arrive until the moment that the sun was about to set behind the hills, just as the party was about to begin. The only other woman that was there was Bellatrix, her hand held tightly by the severe looking Augustus Rookwood.

It seemed like an eternity, but it was actually only minutes later when Abraxas showed up, Hermione in tow, her hair now glamoured blonde. "Everyone calm down, I've brought our May Maiden," he said, wanting attention on him. Abraxas needed to be needed, loving the influence that providing gave him. "Look at this pretty little witch I found vacationing in Monaco. Gentlemen, I present Miss Germain."

Hermione didn't fuss when Abraxas took his time tying her to the maypole with colorful ribbons, even when he was a little too handsy. She looked demure even when the men looked her up and down, commenting on her body as though she weren't even there. Finally, Abraxas pressed the flower crown on her head. "The May Queen," he said proudly. "Now where is the damned mead? I need a drink after all that work."

The rest of the Death Eaters grumbled that Abraxas wouldn't be helping them with the fires, but pointed him in the direction of the mead. Rodolphus joined in helping to start the fires, needing something to distract him. He heard the sudden whoosh when the other bonfire finally caught and redoubled his efforts.

The Dark Lord arrived just as the second bonfire was lit. Bellatrix immediately rushed to his side to welcome him, despite it being her Uncle's job as host. She always needed to be the first to speak with the dark wizard, somehow hoping that he would change his mind about her eventually, and take her as his mistress. She pressed a horn of black mead into his hand, fussing over his robes and loudly complaining about how dusty the fireplace had been.

Augustus didn't take too kindly to the way his wife was fawning over the other man and grabbed her roughly, pulling her to his side.

"Let me see the May Queen," the Dark Lord asked, motioning to Abraxas to lead the way.

Rodolphus could feel his heart pounding away in his chest as they approached, Bellatrix and Augustus hot on their heels.

"Miss Germain, my Lord," Abraxas said, with a flourish and a half bow. "She's yours if you desire, but I'm afraid she doesn't speak much English."

Hermione smiled, looking at the man serenely, as though she didn't understand what was being said, a pretty, stupid little thing.

Bellatrix gasped when her eyes finally settled on the May Queen, easily seeing who it was, in utter disbelief. "My Lord, I must tell you something about the May Queen," she urged, grabbing onto his sleeve. Voldemort recoiled, but she was not to be stopped. "She's Her-"

Before she could complete her sentence, Rookwood was pulling her back, sending a silencing charm to his wife. Now muted, Bellatrix wasn't able to spoil Hermione's identity. "Silence, woman!" he roared, obviously on his last nerve with his wife. "The Dark Lord doesn't _want_ you, and you will only embarrass yourself by constantly being jealous."

Unable to speak, Bellatrix was left to smolder in fury, her eyes finding Rodolphus's easily. He gave her a little smile as he watched Rookwood pull her towards the table, as far away from the Dark Lord's spot of honor as possible.

"Let's begin," Rosier said, eager to break the tension that his niece had caused, guiding the Dark Lord towards the table. Taking the horn of undrunk mead from the Dark Lord's hand, he went off in search of a new, fresher drink.

Rodolphus found a seat next to his father, trying to maintain his composure. "There is something about the May Queen that seems familiar to me," his father said to him, eyes flicking to the girl stood between the bonfires once again. "I wonder if she was at one of Abraxas's parties before. Maybe last Yule."

Glad that she hadn't been recognized by his father, he couldn't hide the disgust at what Edmond had said. "Please father, I'd rather not hear about your _shared_ conquests with Abraxas Malfoy," he sneered. Despite his father's efforts, their relationship remained chilly, even with his son joining the brotherhood of Death Eaters.

The Dark Lord stood, holding his horn in hand, giving a short but compelling speech about the noble work that had been started by Salazar Slytherin, and that he intended to complete. There was no hiding that he was an excellent orator, keeping many of the crazed Death Eaters on the edge of their seats, but Rodolphus now knew that the content of his message was recycled, the same speech given time and again.

"So, please, raise your glasses with me," he said, signaling the end. "Let this be the year that we take back the Wizarding World!"

Rodolphus watched with bated breath as Voldemort brought the horn to his lips, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed the thick, black liquid until there was none left in his horn. Voldemort looked down the table, triumph reflected in his cold, dark eyes, before his face fell, suddenly realizing that something was wrong.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the noise couldn't be heard over the rowdy cheers of the Death Eaters. Instead, he stood, framed by the bonfires, flames licking up into the dusky sky, dying, without anyone realizing, until he fell to his knees. Grabbing at his throat, he choked and coughed, his eyes rolling back into his head until you could only see white. Then, he fell over to the side, dead.

Various people got up to try and help, until others began to cough as well, their bodies taken by the same poison. Nott, Cygnus Black, Rookwood, even his own father slumped dead in their seats. By the time it was over, a dozen death eaters lay dead.

Bellatrix lay crying over the body of the Dark Lord, her cries no longer silenced now that her husband was dead, inconsolable. Abraxas was making a big show of admonishing Rosier, despite being told to keep a low profile. "How could you let this happen? Someone's poisoned him!" he shouted at the other man, giving him a good shove. "Don't just stand there, call the aurors."

Bellatrix turned to glare at Rodolphus before pointing an accusatory finger his way. "You did this!" she shrieked. "You and your filthy mudblood!" Her face was transformed by grief and zeal.

Just as she was about to lunge towards Rodolphus, Abraxas was there, pinning her hands behind her back. "Hush, Bellatrix. The aurors will get to the bottom of this," he cooed, guiding her up towards the house. "It isn't good to go throwing around such accusations."

Despite her best efforts, Bellatrix was herded away from Rodolphus, leaving him free to go to Hermione's side. Loosening the ribbons that kept her secured, he pressed a kiss to her lips. "I told you Abraxas and I had it handled," he told her, wrapping her tightly in his arms.

"I know," Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders. "But I wasn't going to let Voldemort wriggle his way out of this one, even if I had to Avada him myself."

"Poison was much more elegant," Rodolphus quipped, staring at the table, still littered with bodies.

"Let's get home to Daisy," she insisted.

Not wanting to spend another minute away from their daughter, Rodolphus agreed. Pulling her aside, he apparated them home, both of them finally free.


	48. Chapter 48

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I am glad that most of you enjoyed the anticlimactic end to Voldemort. i loved the idea of giving him an unusual end just because it isn't done very often. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of the story!

* * *

June 1970

Hermione set down the Daily Prophet with a roll of her eyes, looking at the broad grin that Abraxas Malfoy was giving from the cover, having been sworn in as Minister of Magic just the day before. "He's so...so smarmy, so Malfoy," she told Rodolphus, disappointment in her voice. "I can't believe that you and Dumbledore actually agreed to work with him."

Rodolphus gave her a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Well, I doubt that we would have been able to kill Voldemort without his help. The man is obsessed with poison," he explained, having told Hermione about the portion of Malfoy's library that was dedicated to the sub-branch of potions.

"Oh, I think I could have killed him fairly easily," Hermione countered, feeling cross. "Not a single one of you Death Eaters even knew that I had a wand. I could have just cast the Killing Curse right at his back, and he never would have seen it coming."

"Yes, but then all the Death Eaters would have killed _you_, darling," he answered, with a frown. "And you were much too important to me and Daisy to let that happen."

Daisy sat on his lap, looking like too much of a big girl for Hermione's liking. Where had all the months gone, already? She couldn't believe that it was already time to start feeding her little witch solid foods, and judging by the mashed peas on Daisy's confused face, neither could she.

"Malfoy was a means to an end," Rodolphus added. "I know you might not believe it, but he never really was interested in the whole pureblood agenda. He only ever really cared about getting in power, and cozying up to whoever could give him power."

Hermione snorted. "Somehow, his future grandson doesn't get that message," she explained, her jaw tight when she thought of how much Draco Malfoy had abused her for being a muggleborn last go around. Of course, there was a significant chance that Draco wouldn't be that way any more, not now, at least. Surely, now Draco would think he was better than everyone else because his grandfather was Minister of Magic.

"You know I don't like it when you do that," Rodolphus whined, hating the way that Hermione would talk about the future. He found it very uncomfortable to know that she had all this information that she shouldn't possibly know about, especially when it wasn't even guaranteed to come true any more. He'd made her promise not to share casual details after she'd told him that Arthur and Molly were going to have a son named Bill in November who would go on to work at Gringotts bank.

She bit her lip. "Sorry," she apologized. It was so hard not to let little things slip out any more now that she had told Rodolphus the truth of where she came from. It was as if the floodgates had been opened and she could tell him anything she wanted now. After an initial discussion of _her_ life experiences, he had been content not to know another detail of the future, not even potential sports scores.

"I know you don't think so, but I think that Malfoy might be a good Minister. He's kept his word so far," Rodolphus told her quietly. "And he handled our Bellatrix situation quite well."

Bellatrix had told everyone who would listen that Rodolphus had been responsible for the deaths of Tom Riddle and several of his supporters, including Rodolphus's own father. She insisted that Hermione Granger had been involved as well, despite evidence given that only a Miss Germain had been in attendance, and she'd disappeared off the face of the Earth after the party.

No, Abraxas had assured everyone that the deaths were caused by an unfortunate reaction when the black mead had been brewed. If done improperly, a sort of poison could be made as a by-product, and that was the case of the deaths at the Beltane party. It was even confirmed by the potions laboratory at the Ministry, Malfoy had told the general public.

Rosier, as host, had taken the fall.

And when Bellatrix had continued to cause issues for Rodolphus and Hermione, Malfoy had her taken for a mind wipe, to remove any trace of Voldemort from her mind. As Narcissa's future father-in-law, it was the least he could do to look after her sister.

The general public had been _fascinated_ by the coverage of the deaths, mostly because the details of such pureblood rituals were so rarely shared with the wizarding world at large. To have so many influential men participating in Beltane created a new wave of interest in the traditions of old. Hermione had seen a rash of articles on how to plan the perfect summer solstice party just that year and the Board of Governors of Hogwarts announced that they would be considering re-adding it to the curriculum.

"Who's to say he won't snitch on us when it's convenient to him?" Hermione asked snidely, still not sure that she entirely trusted the blond, even though he had helped to take care of Bellatrix _and_ fast-tracked her paperwork to reclaim her identity after she'd been declared dead the year before.

"Then we reveal his part in the conspiracy," Rodolphus reassured her. "Don't worry about it so much, darling."

It was hard not to expect things to go poorly, especially with the childhood she'd had, terrorized by Voldemort. It was hard to accept that it was actually, finally over.

A huff caught their attention, and Hermione turned her head to see Rabastan stomping into the dining room. Picking up his plate, he quickly shoveled food onto it, wanting to get in and out as quickly as possible. Only when Daisy gave a delighted shriek at seeing her uncle did Rabastan look up from his task, unable to hide his smile. But then, just as quickly as he was in, he was out, carrying his plate off to his room to eat alone.

"He'll come around," Hermione promised Rodolphus, knowing that the riff between them hurt Rodolphus more than he let on.

After their father had died, Rodolphus had assumed guardianship of Rabastan, along with head of house status. He'd told his younger brother that he wanted nothing to do with the house or the inheritance that was passed down to him. He would only act as a custodian of the family fortune, keeping care of it until Rabastan was of age and could take it himself.

Rodolphus, it turned out, didn't want to profit off his father's wealth, not when he clearly would have disowned his son for being with Hermione and having a half-blood daughter. It didn't feel right to use the money. He'd give it all away if he could, but it wouldn't be right to do that to Rabastan either.

Rabastan was clearly not enthused about Hermione moving in with them, especially considering that they were still not married (oddly, something Molly Weasley was in a pique about, too). Ever since he returned from Hogwarts, he'd been moody and sulky, and wouldn't speak a word to her.

Hermione tried not to take it personally. She knew that he was still mourning the loss of his father, who Rabastan had idolized. It had been barely over a month and it would take time for him to come to see the error of his father's beliefs.

She was confident that he _would_ see the error of his ways, eventually. Not only had public sentiment completely changed after Voldemort's negative influence was removed from the Ministry of magic, but she knew that Rabastan _adored_ his niece, even if she was half Hermione. It was only a matter of time before he warmed up to both Hermione and Rodolphus again.

"I hope so," Rodolphus said, sounding miserable. "I don't want my brother to hate me forever."

"He doesn't _hate_ you," she countered. "He's just...fourteen years old. He's moody and hormonal, and his father died. His brother turned out not to be the person that he thought he was, and suddenly everything he thought he knew has been turned upside down. Just give him time."

"Maybe I should make him play Quidditch," Rodolphus wondered aloud, knowing how much the sport had helped him get out some of that teenaged aggression.

"A suggestion can't hurt," Hermione said with a cringe. "But I'd caution against _making_ him do anything. At least not this summer."

"I'm sure he'll be chuffed to go to the Minister's Midsummer party," Rodolphus added, sounding a bit more positive at the thought. Hermione and Rodolphus had been strongly encouraged to come to Malfoy's for the solstice, and Rodolphus knew that Rabastan was keen to come with. He'd always wanted to crash his father's parties, but this was likely to be much more family friendly than what Edmond had participated in.

"Alright, give me the baby," Hermione said, making her way around the dinner table to pick up Daisy once she was finished with her meal. "You've been putting off writing all day, and I won't let you skive off this evening as well. Go hole up in your study," she commanded.

Rodolphus, knowing that he had a few years to establish himself in a new career to provide for his family, had decided to write about magical history, hoping to give it a fresh new spin, rather than the typical, dry histories that were usually written. He hoped to have a steady income by the time that Rabastan was of age, so that he could walk away from the Lestrange fortune without issue.

Hermione was rather pleased with him, knowing that it was a subject he not only enjoyed, but one that he could excel in. She'd read some of his old essays and had been pleasantly surprised by his skill with the written word as well.

As for her, she had been accepted into an advanced study program in Charms, which was due to begin in September. Her NEWT scores had been so high that the Charms Master she'd be working under said that he would be a fool not to accept her. Hermione was excited to keep learning...not quite ready to give up schooling and start her own career if she was honest. But, she was also going to enjoy every minute she had with Daisy before she had to start leaving her every day.

While she never _really_ contemplated being a stay at home mother, Hermione could certainly see the appeal. Although Daisy had been a surprise, she was a welcome one, and Hermione loved to watch her daughter grow and learn every day. It seemed as if she could blink, and then Daisy would be another week older, learning some new skill. She was growing up so fast, and it had Hermione longing for those newborn days once again, when Daisy was content to snuggle in her arms for hours at a time.

It was enough to make her want another baby.

Hiding her grin at _that_ thought, she knew that having another baby wasn't going to happen in the near future. No, instead, she was content to rebuild her relationship with Rodolphus once again, learning to be a family of three. Maybe in a year or two, once they were married, they could talk about it once again. She knew that Rodolphus would be eager to support her through the whole process, making up for lost time.

But for now, she was content. Hermione Granger was content, living in the past with Rodolphus Lestrange. Oh, how she never would have guessed this would have happened when Rabastan shoved her into those time turners. What a tangled web her life had become. She'd left her friends behind in a different time, but she'd made new ones here. She'd be old by the time Harry and Ron came around again, but she was confident that she'd made the world a better place for them.

Looking down at Daisy snuggled in her arms, Hermione was sure she wouldn't change a thing.

Fin.


End file.
